


Always

by mysticalhope



Category: The Good Fight (TV), The Good Wife (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21935029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticalhope/pseuds/mysticalhope
Summary: A fill-in-the-blanks left to us by the Kings exploration of how and why Diane and Kurt fell in love, ran from one another, finally married, the unfortunate events leading to their separation, and their road back to reconciliation.
Relationships: Diane Lockhart/Kurt McVeigh
Comments: 24
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I offer to my fellow fans my own version of the McHart love story. I am choosing to honor the storyline as it was written, though I hate the turn it took at the end of "The Good Wife." This piece will heavily explore Kurt's POV, but will also bring in Diane's. I suppose it's my own need to make sense of why our favorite cowboy roamed that fueled this contribution to the many amazing fics out there.
> 
> The piece is nearly complete. My plan is to bring us to present day. I hope to have the full work uploaded by the dawn of the New Year. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to my amazing beta. I am beyond blessed to have connected with you! My gratitude to so many of you who have graced us with your own McHart offerings and inspired me to write my own. In return, here is my gift to all of you. I hope you enjoy it this holiday season. 
> 
> -Hope

He stared into her eyes. Myriad emotions swirled inside him, though the only sign of struggle came in the form of a furrowed brow.

A year ago, he had proposed. Well, a proposal of sorts. Costa Rica. Making a life together.

He recalled their last meeting when he offered his hand to her. He had never been a man who wanted to settle down, had always enjoyed his freedom. Yet in her, he found freedom of a different kind. He saw a future with her, a fact that both shocked and comforted him. “Come on,” he implored her. She turned him down, but not without a final, lingering kiss that still burned on his lips in the wee hours of the night when thoughts of her seeped through the silence.

***

Kurt McVeigh had been a self-confirmed bachelor until Diane Lockhart walked into his life. Meaningless trysts here and there to get his needs met. Friends with benefits. But his heart was a heavily guarded fortress from any and all women.

And then, there was her.

Something happened the day he walked into her office, a routine meeting just like any other day. Ballistics was his business, and also his life. His fortress required a lot of ammunition for protection.

He sat and listened to her on the phone, taking in her office, appointed much like she was. Expensive. High brow. Dripping with feminist liberalism, complete with Hilary Clinton at her side in the photo behind her. He struggled not to roll his eyes.

Still, he couldn’t help but tease her a bit, to venture outside of “just business.” There was something about her that invited it. A challenge to cut through the armor of Armani to the woman behind the famous name, the designer clothes, the managing partner status. He was both surprised and excited when she teased back a bit.

But then it was back to business. As he walked out, he struggled not to turn around.

Her phone call a few days later to arrange a meeting out at his farm stirred up something inside of him with which he was unfamiliar. That sensation led him to frame his Sarah Palin picture and place it prominently behind his own desk, across from which he let her wait while he took his own phone call. What point was he trying to make?

Later, he found himself struggling to concentrate in the lab with her so close. Her perfume permeated the room, clouding his mind. Her long legs teased him, though clad in leather boots. The closer she got, the more he tensed up. _Business, business, business._ That smile. Those eyes. And those legs. _No. Back to business._ _God, McVeigh – get ahold of yourself!_

She was all the more alluring as she examined him in court. The black suit with the belt cinched tight around her waist. And her legs for miles, parading around in those heels. But it was her confidence, her intelligence, her passion that gripped him most. He had told her she and Palin shared a lot in common, and he meant it. Diane was a woman who knew herself and who knew what she stood for, which is probably what led him to the corner bookstore after his testimony to pick up a copy of Palin’s autobiography. He ensured it was wrapped as fine as its intended recipient. He signed the card simply – _McVeigh._

He dropped it off, knowing she would still be in court. As he walked toward her office, doubts crept in. _What are you doing, McVeigh? What is this?_ And a still smaller, more frightened voice from deep within the fortress. _She’s too good for you._

It wasn’t enough to stop him from leaving the gift, but it was enough to believe he would never hear from her. That is until his own gift arrived and the smile spread not just across his face, but into the deepest recesses of his being. _Maybe…_

***

Months passed, but still she lingered there, in his lab, his office, his thoughts. He buried himself in his work to forget her. He levied every last bit of strength not to call her. But work led him back to her law office, and he couldn’t help but look in on her while she was meeting with a reporter in her office. And then she was there again, smiling at him, teasing him, walking away, hips swaying, legs longer than ever.

How could he not ask her to dinner when later she “accidentally” bumped into him at court?

And what a dinner it was, the silent stoicism she teased him about all but forgotten in the passion of that first kiss. God, how he had dreamt about that for months, especially during those late hours in his empty bed. Imagining what it would be like to kiss those deep red lips, to taste her, to…so when the moment presented itself, he took it, without thinking about her reaction. All doubts dissipated as she responded, leaning into him, but then she was standing up to leave, telling him she couldn’t – their politics were too divergent – her ancestors were screaming out at her. “I want to, but I can’t,” she told him, kissing him again, more passionately, his whole body responding, every nerve ending on fire, only to watch her walk away.

His heart sank. What was this? This wasn’t him. He kissed plenty of women. _He_ was the one who walked away. He sat and stared at their half-eaten meal. At the wine glass with the hint of her red lipstick. At the beer she had poured for him. At the chair she left vacant. His brow furrowed once more as feelings abated by years of singleness welled up in him. He couldn’t stay and take in the remains of what could have been, so he quickly departed to the lobby to return to his room.

There, at the elevator she stood, waiting. Their eyes met, icy blue and earthy green, and he knew. She followed him silently into the lift, keeping her distance as others joined them. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply the scent of her. His body hummed with the electricity of their connection even without touching her.

At the 14th floor, he exited with her at his heel. No words or glances were exchanged as they continued the course to his room, where he opened the door and offered her entrance. As he did so, something opened within him, a portal to the deep, dark, cobweb-covered chambers of his heart.

She placed her coat and bag on the chair close by before turning around. Their eyes finally met again, and without a word, he crossed to her and took her in his arms, their earlier kisses a mere prelude to this. _This_ was a kiss. Passion and lust and longing, long-forgotten hearts awakened to that which they had thought forever lost to them. His tongue tangled with hers as his arms trailed themselves across her body, saying all the things he couldn’t put into words.

When they finally came up for air, he took in her eyes, the blue deepened by passion. Her cheeks were flushed, her bold red lips smudged and swollen. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Her hands found his coat, then his shirt, each opening of a button another inroad into his deeply veiled heart. He’d never been touched with such tenderness before. He felt as if she was unwrapping a most precious gift.

He offered her the same courtesy, turning her gently in search of the hidden zipper on her dress, which he slowly moved down her spine, his lips following in its wake. He carefully moved the dress from her shoulders and it dropped to the floor, leaving her standing before him near naked, clad only in a matching set of lacy navy bra and panties and thigh high stockings that quickly joined her dress. She followed suit with his pants and boxers.

Finally, they were naked before one another. He took her hand and led her to the bed. Words weren’t necessary as they continued their exploration of one another, tasting, touching, reading each other’s reactions, learning each other’s language of longing until that moment when they joined, handcrafted for one another, their breathing and moaning punctuating the song of their lovemaking that crescendoed to the point of no return as together they let go and fell freely into ecstasy.

Later, he would tease her about what her ancestors might think. She smirked and playfully swatted him. “Screw ‘em,” she said, before diving in for more.

That first night was followed by others, resplendent with deeply fascinating and fiery conversations followed by equally fiery sex. But work was work, for both of them, ingrained habits and lives of solitude hard to break. Still, something in him had shifted permanently when he met Diane Lockhart. Yet he remained reticent to give that shift a name.

When he mentioned having feelings for her, she teased him. “You have feelings for me?” He saw her smile but inwardly felt exposed and embarrassed. He thought she might feel the same, but her reaction caused him to question his assumption. Her evisceration of him later when she deposed him left him feeling things he’d never allowed to creep in. Anger, yes, but something else – a deep sense of betrayal. He was loathe to admit it, but Kurt was brokenhearted.

Later, that same smile greeted him at his door. Relunctantly, he let her in – into his lab, and once more into his heart.

“Hello,” she said sheepishly, standing across from him in the middle of the room.

“Hi,” he responded, quickly averting her gaze.

He felt her come toward him, heart pounding as her hand came to his chin and lifted it.

“Kurt…talk to me.”

Words failed him.

“I…I was just doing my job, just like you.”

Anger swelled up in him, fueled by pain as he pulled away from her, her abandoned hand dropping to her side. “I didn’t call into question your integrity, Diane.” Bitter. Bereft.

Her mouth opened, then shut again. It seemed that words failed her, too.

They stood in silent tension.

“I…I…I’m sorry…”

“Are you, Diane? Or are you just saying that to placate me?”

“Kurt!” He heard the surprise. The hurt. Unexpectedly, it hurt him more to hurt her, but he couldn’t find the words to express himself. Couldn’t access those feelings he had easily voiced just a few days earlier.

Diane looked at him pleadingly, causing him to look away.

“Kurt, I don’t know what you want from me…”

He looked at her sharply. _I want you to love me._ He heard the words echo from the depths of his heart. Still, he could not speak them. Instead, he did what he was best at. He moved toward her again and took her in his arms.

“Oh,” she cried, clinging to him. He heard the tears in her voice, felt them shake her body, before pulling back to wipe them from her cheeks.

“Shhh…it’s okay…” His heart broke that he was the source of her pain.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered.

“I know. I don’t know if I do, either.”

On the surface, they spoke of balancing their jobs and relationship, but a deeper meaning was evident. They didn’t know how to manage falling in love.

He pulled her close again and she clung to him, her forehead resting against his neck, breathing deep the scent of him. His hands drew comforting circles on her back. They stood like that for many moments, holding on to one another in the midst of their uncertainty.

Finally, he drew a deep breath and pulled back. “Come on, let’s go next door. I’ll light a fire and open a bottle of wine.”

She nodded and took his offered hand, following him over to his house.

They saw each other for another month until he left for a case in Florida. She promised to call, but it was an empty promise. He supposed he could have called her, but his heart had hardened, still scarred from the deposition, from her putting work before everything else, including him.

The truth was that he loved her. And it scared him to death thinking she didn’t feel the same.

***

Kurt’s fear kept him from calling her when he returned from Florida a month later. It kept him from reaching out to her on election night. But she still haunted his dreams and occupied his heart.

It was a thirty-six million dollar lawsuit that led him back to her. Without a second thought, she was his first and only call. And all the feelings he thought he had kept at bay rushed in on a mighty tide of that same longing that brought them together in the first place.

Their on again/off again nature was turned off permanently when she rejected his offer to start a new life together in Costa Rica. The pathways she had begun to etch into his inner being were once more restored to their formal, formidable walls. But she still crept in from time to time, in dreams and late night wonderings.

Surprisingly, there were no other women after her. Opportunity had presented itself, but she remained standing there, in the way. Haunting him. The feelings he had shown her, had voiced to her still there, not as buried as he had hoped. They finally found their voice under the cover of darkness during another sleepless night when thoughts of her consumed him: He loved her.

For a year, he worked hard to let go of those feelings. He took on more work; traveled extensively; focused time and energy on his students.

Then, one late winter’s night, she stood in his home once more, having traveled the distance from the city to see him.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt was in the midst of meeting with his student, Miranda, who was interning with him. Shock stopped him in his footsteps when he saw who had knocked on the door. “Diane?” He couldn’t let her leave and invited her to join them for a beer. While he enjoyed the political sparring between her and the much more conservative Miranda, he found himself wondering why in the world she had traveled 40 miles this late at night to just drop in on him. Was she, too, haunted?

When Miranda finally took her leave, he was at once relieved and overcome with nerves. Alone again he sat with this woman who had woven her way into his life without warning. Why was she here?

And then she kissed him and all those feelings he had buried in the darkest recesses of his heart came rushing forth once more. His hand found her arm, caressing it up and down in an effort to prove that this was real and not one of many dreams from which he had woken over the year.

He needed help. What was this? So he asked, and she confessed. She missed him. She hoped he missed her.

His confusion gave way to wonder and he responded in that unspoken language they had carefully crafted over the years. Lips and tongues and bodies writing a story of lost souls finding their mate after years of wandering.

They made love that night. That was the only term that was appropriate for this reunion. Initial tentativeness gave way to deeply conveyed tenderness, as if handling a delicate object one treasures but is afraid to break. Later, as she curled up next to him in his bed, head on his shoulder, arm draped across his waist, he finally found the words.

“I missed you, too.”

Her laugh was effervescent, warming his heart more than he thought possible. He forgot how much he missed hearing it.

Her slender fingers drew circles on his chest. “I thought of you often this past year.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think about?”

“Oh, how you were. What you might be doing.” She paused. “Costa Rica.” Now it was his turn to laugh. She smiled in response, looking at him. “I’m sorry I turned down that trip. I hear it’s nice,” she added.

“Yep,” he offered, his eyes turned to the night sky through the skylight above his bed. “Even nicer with company.”

“Mmmm…what would we do?” she implored, encouraging him to reveal that which had only been voiced in dreams.

“Morning hikes in the rainforest. Afternoons on the beach. You, scantily clad. Me, looking forward to after dinner when I could unclad you completely.”

“Kurt!” she protested, but her voice belied her own desires.

It was then he looked her in the eyes. “Honestly, it wouldn’t matter what we did. Only that you were with me.”

He saw the tears well up in those eyes that saw beyond what the world knew of Kurt McVeigh. “Wow, not bad for the stoically silent man I once knew.”

“Yeah,” he grinned sheepishly. “I guess you bring it out in me.”

Her hand then reached up to cup his face, drawing him near. She began with a soft kiss, but it soon deepened, saying more than any words could of her feelings for him, and his for her.

***

Kurt awoke to the first light streaming through the skylight. Despite last night’s unplanned activities, he felt more rested than he had in a long time. He glanced briefly at the clock on his nightstand. He still had an hour until he had to get ready for the day.

His gaze turned to her, still there, beside him. She was lying on her back, one hand above her head, the one closest to him across her abdomen. His fingers traced that hand, following its course, embracing her as he took in the beauty of her bathed in early morning light.

“Mmmm…” she uttered turning towards him, cradling herself in his arms. His heart swelled as he breathed in her scent, a combination of her perfume and their lovemaking. She was still naked, and he allowed himself to feel her fully lying against him, soft breasts, one long leg now covering his own.

“Morning,” she uttered lowly.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “We still have an hour.”

“Mmmmmm” this time, the tune of her response changed, charged with something else. His body involuntary responded, his hands roaming her as hers did the same to him until they rejoined, their morning lovemaking more languid, though no less satisfying.

They lay entwined in the afterglow until he was forced to quiet his alarm for the third time for fear of being late to class. “Sorry,” he said. “Believe me, I’d rather cancel.”

“It’s okay. This wasn’t quite planned,” she smiled.

“Mmmm, no. But very much appreciated.”

One last kiss and he finally headed to shower. She rose to get dressed, and he turned.

“Diane, stay. Please. Sleep in. I’ll drive you home after I am finished. Around 10:30.”

She nearly protested, he could see the tension in her body, but then something relaxed. “Yes, okay. I suppose I can handle what needs to be done from here.”

“In that case…dinner tonight?”

A smile spread across her face. “Mmmmm…yes.”

He caught her meaning. His face mirroring hers.

“How about a shower with me now?” he offered, voice low.

She readily joined him, cleanliness the least of their concerns, though they somehow managed to include it in their ritual. Once finished, he quickly dressed and kissed her goodbye. Their eyes locked with one another as he pulled away, and the words he had not dared to whisper nearly tumbled out. His stoicism prevailed, but his eyes gave him away. She knew. He could tell from her own expression that the same words rested on her own tongue, too precious and new to utter quite yet.

One last kiss, and he was off.

***

Diane could easily remember the last time she had lingered in bed beyond 6 am – it was with him. It was only ever with him. Nothing else kept the day at bay, but Kurt had a way of inviting her to a life she had never known. In his presence, she caught sight of domesticity. Life shared over cups of coffee at the breakfast table; during dinner in the dining room; in the midst of pre-bed preparations. The intricacies of hearts interwoven. She had spent her entire adult life married to the firm until the day he walked in her office and began to unravel all that she knew and all that she was.

She stretched out, cat-like, letting herself feel deeply that unraveling as her mind mulled over the secrets this bed held of their story. Of passionate sex and intimate lovemaking. Of two soloists learning to sing in harmony a song neither thought ever possible. She let the tune she was not quite ready to sing hum in her heart as she took in the lingering smell of him on the sheets and in the room. Eventually, she was lulled back to sleep by the comfort of this place and the man it housed.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

The distant voice entered into her dreamscape. “Mmmmm…”

Kurt smiled as he watched her begin to wake. God, she was beautiful. He slid off his jacket and kicked off his shoes before climbing back into bed with her. Immediately, she cuddled into him, his pulse quickening at the feel of her close once more. He kissed her temple.

“Diane…time to wake up…”

Her eyelids fluttered and she smiled sleepily at the sight of him. “Mmmm…you’re back. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he said before kissing her fully. She melted in his arms, her hands seeking bare skin, making quick work of unbuttoning his shirt.

He pulled away. “Diane, it’s 10:30. Shouldn’t we get on the road?”

She smiled again, shaking her head. “Called off. Much needed personal day.” She leaned in once more and resumed kissing him. He recovered quickly from the shock of her news, his tongue finding its way to hers as their dance of intimacy began. Eventually, they parted with soft pecks.

She leaned her head on his chest and sighed. Oh how she had missed him. She was suddenly jolted by a rumble of laughter. “What?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Oh, nothing. Just…you must have been quite worn out to take the day off,” he said, smirking.

She playfully tapped his chest. “Not at all…more like just getting started…”

He saw the shift in her gaze – icy blue giving way to ocean depths.

“Diane…”

“Kurt…”

They proceeded to add another chapter to their story, their passion painting the tale between the sheets of his bed. But it was the end of the chapter that stood out. “I love you,” he whispered in the midst of lingering kisses doled out in the wake of post-orgasmic bliss.

Her eyes opened wide with surprise as she pulled back to look at him. In his eyes she saw his realization of what had been said, perhaps unintentionally. Feelings permitted to escape the barricade he had built so well. Vulnerability and fear took over.

Not knowing how else to calm him, and not yet ready to reveal herself, she smiled and kissed him as her own heart seemed to burst with a desire to respond. Yet it was her more practiced pattern that took over as she felt the unraveling within. Diane liked neat and tidy bows, not the loose ends that love garnered. Despite her domestic daydreaming, the reality of a life with Kurt required an untying of all that kept her together. Her own fears silenced the true words of her heart.

They never spoke of that moment, not out loud. Not that day, or later in the week when he took her fishing. Or in the late night trysts and weekend getaways that dotted the next few months. He was careful to watch his words, though he felt them deeply. She continued to try and balance seeing him while keeping herself together. She even kept a date with Jack, evidence of her flight from the intimacy she simultaneously desired and deeply feared.

Eventually, they lost touch again. It was more her than him. He tried, oh how he tried to win her over, but deep down his heart suffered in the wake of her silence. He thought he had seen the words he spoke lived out in her eyes, still caught a glimpse from time to time, but then she ran away again, back to the law, back to the firm. She made excuses, empty promises of future dates, but he knew. In Diane Lockhart, his deepest desires and worst fears were embodied. Finally, he gave up, walling himself off once more in the only place where his heart could find full protection – alone.


	3. Chapter 3

It was just about a year later when she entered his life once more via the threshold of work. “Kurt, please” was all he needed to hear to help her, even if it was a case involving a known killer, Colin Sweeney.

She resumed her part in teasing him, but it was tinged with jealousy when she broached the subject of his former student, Miranda. He focused on the task at hand, examining the evidence of the case, when the evidence of a greater case lay before him in her presence and words as she wove herself around him and tested the waters.

“You headed back to the country tonight?”

It was all his damned heart needed to follow up with a dinner invitation.

They dined together in his room, away from the crowds of prying eyes. It had become a custom after the intimacy of their first night together was shattered by a courtroom outing.

After eating, he poured her some more wine and himself a scotch. She climbed onto the sofa, long legs tucked under her. He handed her the wine and sat beside her. She leaned in close and his hand rested on her knee.

It was as if time has stood still over the past year as they easily fell back into conversation with one another. She filled him in on the vetting process for the supreme court and he offered her his insights. His heart warmed when she complimented his wisdom, peeking out from the darkness to which he had banished it after their last encounter. That is, until she blurted out: “We should get married.”

His stoicism hid the swell of hope and fear that collided inside him. He watched her closely as she backtracked, seeing the fear in her eyes. He knew the same fear that came in the wake of such vulnerability. Once more, a kiss ended the conversation, or so he thought. They made love tenderly that evening, a reunion of two lost souls who once more found solace in each other’s arms. Still there was an unsettled sense to their parting the next morning.

Later, as they returned to the crime scene to further examine evidence in the Sweeney case, her distant demeanor told him all he needed to know. She didn’t want him to forget what she said. She wanted an answer. He tried to reassure her, but his words came out all wrong, the tone tinged with his own hurt and fear. Would they ever get this right?

***

Kurt knew he needed to address Diane’s proposal. With the Sweeney trial now in the hands of the judge, he stopped by her office before heading home. Though the larger part of him wanted to sweep her away and marry her right then and there, a few extra days of deep thought allowed his fear to get the best of him. All he wanted to do was give his heart to this woman who kept pushing him away. So he opted not for no, but for waiting.

Diane wasn’t surprised to hear this, after all, she was as shocked as he must have been to hear herself utter a marriage proposal. And though she tried to take it back, she knew it to be true. Seeing him again set into motion the same unraveling, yet the feeling was no longer foreign or to be feared – it just felt right. This was love, this force that unravels all that was in order to weave a new tapestry of togetherness. Yet maybe it was too late. Maybe all her running away and failure to tell him how she felt in the past ruined any chance they had. She felt the weight of his request to wait in the pit of her stomach. She looked down so as not to reveal her deep disappointment. But then, just as he was about to depart, she rallied.

“Wait…I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to wait,” she declared as she rose and walked towards him, her words taking on greater strength as she repeated them.

“And then what?”

His words challenged her. They held deeper meaning than the logistics of marrying two busy lives, colored with his own fear of being left again.

She hesitated, trying to gather her thoughts. “I…Kurt…I know it’s a long time coming. And I wish I would have said this when I first knew.” She paused, breathing deeply. “I love you,” she finally admitted, breathlessly. Any last vestiges of fear fell from her eyes as she stood before him, completely vulnerable.

She saw the fear begin to leave his own gaze “Diane…”

She launched herself into his arms and kissed him deeply.

“Wait, wait…” he said, pulling away. “Are you…are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life,” she declared, now giddy with emotion.

“I…I…God, I love you, too. Still. Always.” He pulled her back in to resume their kiss.

***

Later that night, entangled under the sheets of her bed, they spoke further of the years of running to and from one another.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What? For…why?”

“I imagine it must have been painful for you to share your feelings with me, when all I could do was ignore my own and, consequently, yours.”

“Diane…what’s in the past is in the past.”

“No, Kurt…please…I owe you this much. You, Mr. Stoically Silent, tell me you have feelings for me and then…then you tell me you love me…and I just…I’m so ashamed. I let my own stuff get in the way, and I hurt you and me and us and all the time I was so in love with you. My God, earlier the same day you told me you loved me I was lying in bed daydreaming of spending my life with you. And then I go and muck it up and lose a year with you and worst of all, hurt you deeply. Please, forgive me.”

He looked on her with wonder, his heart swelling at her words. She _had_ loved him.

“All is forgiven,” he reassured her, taking her hand and kissing it. “Besides, my heart seems to have recovered pretty well with all the proposals you keep flinging around.”

Her throaty laugh filled the room and his heart.

“Come here,” he invited, pulling her close. Though a man of few words, he could fill a library with his ability to show her how much he loved her. His kisses and touches and innate knowledge of the depths of her being spoke volumes. That night, they added quite a few more chapters to their story as they made love with abandon.

Clinging to one another in the afterglow, she whispered her love for him and he for her. As they lay together in the silence that followed, he couldn’t help but tease her a little. “So…Mrs. McVeigh?”

The laugh he loved erupted from the precious woman he held in his arms. “Don’t push it, dear.”

“What, you don’t want to take my ‘unfortunate’ name?”

She smiled, remembering their first encounter and her response to learning his name. “We could always go modern and have you take mine, Mr. Lockhart,” she teased back.

He joined her in laughter. “I guess we _are_ both pretty attached to our names after so many years,” he reflected.

She looked up at him, suddenly serious, bringing her hand to his cheek so that he looked at her. “To the name, maybe, but not to that life…not anymore…” tears glistened in her eyes. “Kurt, you make me so happy.”

His thumb wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks as he laid soft kisses on her lips. He then drew back again and drank in the sight of her, so vulnerable yet strong. He took a moment to find his own words to convey to her what she meant to him. “Diane, knowing you, being loved by you…you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t care what name you use, so long as I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Her smile stole his heart once more. “I love you.”

“I love you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Their next months were spent within the confines of a lovely bubble. Kurt’s schedule had freed up some, allowing the couple more time together. Diane began to step away from the firm in light of her Supreme Court nomination. It seemed as if life was paving the way for them to spend it together.

Bubbles, however, are fragile, and theirs was at risk of bursting on several occasions. The first came when Diane asked to meet Kurt's friends. She thought it odd that she knew none of them in light of their engagement. Kurt didn’t seem bothered by it, nor was he very interested in her own friends. He accepted them, yes, but was not compelled to remember much about them. Diane understood this about him, but if she was honest, at times his apathy left her with doubt.

That doubt was further exacerbated when he finally introduced her to his friends: three twenty-something centerfolds who spoke his language of conservatism and the second amendment. Diane was shocked, but she did what she did best - she kept her own emotions behind a wall and made a valiant effort to be gracious, engaging in verbal sparring with the three women while Kurt looked on. 

Later, in his truck, the pit in her stomach widened when he checked in with her, eliciting her forked tongue response. 

“Have you _slept_ with any of those ballistic experts?”

Without thinking, her deepest fear was spoken in the confines of the truck’s cab. She wasn’t enough for him. Not conservative enough or young enough or pretty enough…

When he asked her if she didn’t want to get married, the only true response was “I don’t know.”

They drove the rest of the way home in silence, the tension palpable. 

Pulling up to her apartment, Kurt placed the truck in park without turning it off. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix this, whatever _this_ was. “I think I should head out to the farm.” Maybe she needed space.

The pit grew deeper in Diane. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she couldn’t look at him. All she could do was nod and reach for the handle of the door.

“Diane, wait…” his large, rough hand reached over and grabbed her slender, smooth one. “Talk to me.” He couldn’t let her go like this. It was obvious she was hurting. 

Diane stopped and sat back, eyes closed, drawing in a deep breath. Finally, when she was certain her voice wouldn’t crack, she spoke softly, timidly. “Kurt, do _you_ want this?” 

The silence that met her was deafening. 

Kurt collected his thoughts. Why would she doubt his love for her - what had he done wrong? Of course he wanted this, but maybe, well, she was the one who asked this time around. She was the one who refused no for an answer. What would it take to show her how much he loved her, only her, _always_ her?

“Diane...let’s go inside and talk. I’ll light a fire.”

She nodded. He turned off the truck and the two made their way into the apartment, silently, lost in thought. Separate, but together.

Kurt took her coat and hung it up, following with his own. He then tended to the fire while Diane collected two crystal tumblers and a bottle of scotch. Finally, they found themselves side by side on the sofa, enlightened by the fire, yet shadowed by skepticism.

Kurt was the first to break the silence. Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to find the right words. “Diane, I love you. I...I know...I…” he huffed as he stumbled over his words. “I know I’m not a big talker, and I know my life is...I don’t know... _different_ than yours. But, I meant it when I said I wanted to make a life with you a couple of years ago. And I still mean it today.”

Diane listened quietly as he spoke, her heart beating rapidly, fearful of what she would hear. When he was finished she finally looked at him, the silently stoic cowboy who somehow always managed to surprise her. If she was honest, he had been the one initiating so much of their relationship - gifts and kisses and feelings and yes, even that first pseudo-proposal in his lab. But he had also run away from her, leaving a chasm in what she once thought was a very full life. She, too, drew in a deep breath before speaking. “Kurt, I...I’m just so scared you’ll run away again.” There it was. The fear that was tangled up in her love for him.

Kurt looked upon her, her head bowed, unable to look him in the eye. Once more, he reached across and took her hand. “Hey,” he tugged gently, inviting her to look at him. When she complied he saw the tears and fear swirling in her eyes. “Come here,” he whispered, inviting her into his arms. She went easily, her love for him outshining any doubt. Kurt held her, stroking her back with his hands as her head lay on his shoulder. Diane felt the tension begin to melt away, the solidity of his touch reminding her how loved she was. 

After some time had passed, she gently pulled back to look at him. “Maybe we should set a date.” There was no more doubt. Her voice was steady and certain.

Kurt studied her for a moment before the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile. “I like it.”

She smiled back. “Good. If you’re free, we could stop by the courthouse tomorrow to get our license. We’ll just have to wait a day before we go back to marry.” Kurt frowned, a sight that surprised Diane. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I just - I thought maybe you wanted to plan something. Like a ceremony. A party. I - I don’t want you to miss out on that.”

Diane smiled. “Kurt. First of all, I am marrying _you_ , and _you_ hate parties. And, well, I don’t need that. Would it be nice? Yes, but the only thing I _need_ is you standing beside me, knowing we’ll spend the rest of our lives together. Okay?”

Kurt studied her for a few moments. “You’re sure? Because Diane, I’ll do the party route if it’s you I’m marrying.”

She laughed that wonderful laugh of hers in response. “Oh sweetheart, I love you for saying that. But let’s not wait any longer - we’ve waited so long. To find one another. To finally settle into this. Let’s get married the day after tomorrow.”

Kurt’s smile widened, his heart nearly bursting. “Okay. It’s a date.”

***

Two days later, Kurt stood in the hallway of the court building. He had walked these halls many times, but today - today was different. Today, he would become a married man.

As he readied himself that morning, he opted not for his typical jeans, plaid shirt, and corduroy jacket, but instead for a suit and tie. Diane had only ever seen him dressed up like this on one occasion, and he recalled the way her face lit up. He wanted to look good for her today. He wanted her to remember him like this - wearing his best clothes for this woman who was the best thing to ever happen to him.

On the way to the courthouse, he had stopped at the florist and picked up a simple bouquet of calla lilies. He remembered his mother carried them, and her telling him how she chose the flower because it was said to bring the bearer wedded bliss. 

From the florist he made his way to the jeweler. He and Diane had stopped there the day before after acquiring their marriage license. He mulled over that visit as he returned to the shop.

_“Ahhh, yes, that is perfect,” Diane said to the jeweler, a man she had known and trusted for years._

_“Yes, it suits your style,” he responded, admiring the three-tiered gold band that enrobed her left ring finger._

_Kurt frowned. The ring was stately, but so simple. Didn’t she want a diamond? Shouldn’t he offer her one?_

_“Kurt, dear? What do you think?” Diane’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts as she waved her hand at him._

_“Ummm,” he cleared his throat, collecting his thoughts. “It’s nice. But...wouldn’t you like something... more?”_

_Diane’s brow furrowed. “More?”_

_Kurt tried to convey his thoughts. “Umm, yes, you know, a diamond?”_

_Diane looked at him for a beat before her lips curled gently into a smile. “You want to buy me a diamond?” she asked softly._

_Kurt felt his face redden and he looked down, considering his response. Finally, he looked up. “I want to give you whatever it is you desire.”_

_Diane’s smile widened in response, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Kurt…” she moved toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a light peck on his lips. “Sweetheart, I love you. But all I desire is to be married to you. I don’t need a diamond for that.”_

_Kurt looked into her clear, blue eyes. “You’re sure?”_

_She nodded her head in response and gently kissed him again. “Now, we need to find something for you. Would you like a diamond?” she asked with a wink._

_Kurt laughed at her and kissed her, more deeply this time. Finally, he pulled back. “Well, it was you who proposed, so I guess a diamond would be appropriate,” he quipped, giving her waist a squeeze._

_Diane threw her head back in laughter. “Careful what you wish for, cowboy!”_

Kurt emerged from the jeweler with their rings - her three-tiered band and his simple gold one. 

He had arrived at the courthouse early, as was his custom. Their appointment was for 10 am. Diane had a few items to tend to that morning, hence she was meeting him there. When she had yet to arrive on the hour, Kurt figured she was caught up. But as the minutes ticked by, he began to get nervous. Was she having second thoughts? Had she changed her mind? As such a reality sunk in, he found himself experiencing a deep sense of sadness, of loss. For a man who never saw himself getting married, he couldn’t imagine the pain of being left at the altar.

Turning from another pace down the hallway, Kurt caught sight of her walking toward him. His heart picked up pace in his chest as Diane drew closer, and his breath was stolen at the sight of her dressed in beautiful midnight blue. She had once more chosen his favorite color on her. Still, he needed to see her eyes, now hidden behind dark sunglasses, to make sure that they were okay.

As she drew near, she finally took them off and looked at him, smiling. 

“Sorry.”

“Noooo...we’re good?”

“Always.”

Kurt handed her the flowers, which she received with a chuckle and a smile. 

He smiled back, his right hand gently guiding her toward the Marriage and Civil Union Courtroom. Suddenly he stopped, looking intently at her. Diane’s heart skipped a beat. “You know we don’t have to do this,” he said, offering her a final out, fearing she might take it.

“I know,” she said, smiling and placing her hand on his cheek, her heart resolved. With that, she offered him one last kiss before they crossed the threshold of marriage.

***

Hand in hand they stood before Judge Charles Abernathy, Diane’s good friend. She had phoned him the day before and asked if he would do the honor of marrying her and Kurt. Charles had been thrilled to hear this news and agreed wholeheartedly.

“What a day! How nice it is to stand before you both on this occasion!” Charles greeted the couple as he shook Kurt’s hand vigorously before embracing Diane.

“Charles, I can’t thank you enough. This means so much to us,” she said warmly.

“Yes, thank you, Judge Abernathy,” Kurt added.

“Please, Kurt, on this occasion, it’s Charles,” he replied with a wide smile.

“Thank you, _Charles_ ,” Kurt complied, nodding.

“Now, I have the standard book here - would you like to stick to it or do you have some words of your own?”

Diane and Kurt both smiled sheepishly. Unbeknownst to the other, they had both penned vows over the course of the past two days. 

“Well, I, um...yes, I have something brief,” Kurt offered. 

Diane’s eyes widened. “You do?”

Kurt smiled, reveling in the look of surprise on his bride’s face. “I do.”

“Kurt,” Diane said softly, tears glistening in her eyes. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. He tightened his grip in response.

“I figured today would be a good day to cast off the stoically silent act,” he said with a wink.

“Okay,” Charles interrupted, clapping his hands. “Diane, how about you?”

Diane nodded. “I have a few words, too,” she replied, her gaze never leaving Kurt’s as she saw the glimmer in his eye at hearing this.

Charles grinned upon the couple, so obviously in love, wrapped up in one another. He began the proceedings, sticking to the book until the appropriate time. “Now Kurt, I’d like to invite you to share your words with Diane.”

Kurt nodded, taking Diane's other hand in his so that he held them both and looked her directly in the eye, struggling to find words at first, but gaining strength as he continued on, his love for this amazing woman carrying him through. “Diane, I...ahem...I know words aren’t my strong suit. But today, of all days, I want you to hear this: I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the first day I met you. And not just because you’re beautiful, but because your heart - it’s...so, so true. So...pure. I never thought of myself as falling in love - and definitely never imagined I’d marry. But you changed all of that - and I am a lucky man to be loved by you, to marry you, and to spend the rest of my life with you.” The tears fell freely as Diane listened to her groom share himself so openly with her. Kurt brought his hand to her cheek and gently wiped them away. “I love you, Diane. _Always_.”

Diane nodded, smiling through her tears. “Oh, Kurt, I...I thought marriage was such a strange institution. I never understood why people entered into it - until you. No matter how far apart we drifted over the years, my heart has always been yours. And...and I realized along the way that I didn’t want us to drift apart again...because I missed you when you were gone,” she smiled wider. “Me, Diane Lockhart, the woman who never needed a man, missed _you_ , the cowboy who sauntered into my office and stole my heart.” Diane drew a deep breath as fresh tears rolled over. “You make me so happy, Kurt,” she added softly. “I love you. _Always_.”

Kurt’s heart swelled at her words as all the walls he had built crumbled in knowing that this woman would be his wife, forever. He squeezed her hands and smiled broadly.

“Ahh, such love!” Charles serenaded the couple before finishing out the ceremony. “And now, by the power invested in me by the state of Illinois, I pronounce you officially wed!”

The couple needed no prompting to embrace in a deep kiss followed my murmurs of “I love you. _Always._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

Their hopes and dreams for domestic bliss saw glimpses of reality, but the sheer force of lives lived alone for so many years presented them with obstacles that were hard to overcome. Diane and Kurt came to an understanding that they would live their lives as they had, making time once a month for one another. This resulted in seeing each other for less than 30 days of the year. Though neither of them voiced it, as time wore on living this way took its toll. Diane was often jealous of the many women he mentored. He was often irritated by her inability to set work aside. Time together became filled with tension and arguments.

The second year of their marriage found them working a case together. Their time began well. Kurt came back into town on a Friday afternoon, arriving at her apartment with dinner in hand. Diane managed to leave work at a reasonable hour and was waiting for him. The moment he entered the door her hands were all over him, her hunger for him insatiable. Dinner was quickly forgotten in favor of their reunion.

Their physical connection was always heightened when they came back together, as if they had to make up for the days spent apart from one another - the nights spent in separate beds. But Diane was particularly ravenous this time around, taking full advantage of his extended stay due to the court case. Kurt had taken the stand one morning and done well in the face of opposing counsel. After, he made his way to her car in the parking garage where he waited for her while she finished up a conversation with her client.

Kurt found himself lost in thought, mulling over how wonderful their weekend together had been. For once, Diane turned off work and was more fully present to him than she had been in a long time. He realized how much he loved living with her in such a way - domestically. Cooking dinner for her, cuddling on the sofa and watching a movie, preparing for bed together and sealing the day with a goodnight kiss. With time less limited due to his extended stay, he felt he could enjoy her more fully beyond sex. There was something blissful about that. He wondered if it was time to consider a change…

His thoughts were interrupted when Diane entered the car, her hand grabbing his thigh and quickly moving up to cup him. Kurt responded with surprise that shifted immediately into desire. My how she could surprise him still. They kissed passionately.

“How is it that you make me feel like I'm twenty-two?” she asked breathily. He kissed her hand and she guided it downward, shifting in her seat to pull down her panties. His fingers quickly found her center, hot and wet and waiting. God, she felt good.

He watched her as her mouth fell open, pleasure etched across her face. Her hand made its way to him, touching him through his pants, feeling him respond to her. 

Kurt’s fingers knew what his wife liked, and he unabashedly offered that to her despite their risk of exposure in a public location. It wasn’t long before the windows of the car bore the evidence of their heavy breathing and her moans echoed in the small space. “Kurt, oh Kurt…”

He watched her adoringly as her face shifted and her body tensed then released in a series of unintelligible cries. Diane collapsed against her seat, eyes still closed, chest heaving. Finally, she opened her eyes and found him drinking her in. Her lips curled up in a satisfied smirk.

“I love watching you,” he told her.

She leaned in to kiss him again, her hand once more finding his thigh and moving upward.

Kurt gently took her wrist and brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing it. Her eyes flashed confusion.

“Later,” he said. “Let’s go grab some lunch.”

She nodded and started the car, reveling in the knowledge that later was possible with him around the entire week. 

***

Unfortunately, the week took a turn when politics pressed in on them, driving a wedge between the bond they were so much enjoying. This particularly difficult period resulted in him voicing his concerns obliquely.

“I think we need to go away together.”

Of course she thought he meant down the road. A trip to Italy, perhaps. So he made himself clearer - now. Three days in Wyoming. They needed this now. Despite the weekend they had enjoyed, more often he felt her drifting away. He hated the tension. No amount of sex could cure the pit in his stomach that seemed to be growing the more he felt them off kilter. 

Wyoming was a wonderful, albeit short reprieve. Yet even there, she was working. He didn’t much mind it, so long as he had her undivided attention at the end of the day. But their last night, as they lay in bed after a particularly intense session of lovemaking, he felt the familiar sinking sensation. Tomorrow, she would fly back to Chicago, and he would fly out to California for another trial.

He turned on his side and took her in. The way her nose was upturned, the beautiful beauty mark on her cheek. He felt himself sad, knowing he wouldn’t sleep next to her again for at least a month.

As if sensing a shift in his energy, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him. “Kurt? What is it, sweetheart?”

The words were there on the tip of his tongue. “Stay. Don’t go. Don’t let _me_ go.” But he didn’t know how to voice them without causing more tension. The truth was he loved her as she was, and he loved his work, and he didn’t know how to reconcile the two, much as he wanted to. Rather than respond, he leaned in and kissed her.

“Mmmm, I love you, Cowboy.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt pulled her into his arms and held fast to her, willing time to stand still.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The affair.

They rang in their third anniversary via phone. He had floated the idea of a trip together, but she waved it off with a typical response of it not being a good time. Though he said nothing, Kurt’s anger gave way to deeply felt pain. This wasn’t a marriage. It occurred to him that he hadn’t wanted this when he gave her his heart. He wanted them to put their lives first - their lives  _ together _ . He wanted her, every day. Every night. Her smile, her tears, her irritation when he moved things around the house; her passion during their heated political disputes; her laughter when he teased her; her whispered love for him during lovemaking.

He didn’t want this. But fear and years of stoicism kept him from telling her the truth.

It was this pain that led him to the bar at the hotel in which he was staying for a five-day ballistics conference. Many of his colleagues were gathered there, catching up, when he excused himself to call his wife and wish her good night. Despite the late hour, his call went straight to voicemail and his texts went unanswered. It had been the same for several days now, with an occasional early morning “Sorry” text and some work-related excuse and empty promise to call when she was free. But three years of marriage had taught him that her love affair with her work somehow always won out over the vows she had made to him.

Returning to the bar, he ordered another scotch and sat in silence, radiating hurt and anger. He threw back his drink quickly and ordered up another.

Four drinks in and finally the pain started to dull. All he wanted to do was forget.

“Hey there, Kurt! I thought I saw your name on the list of presenters!”

Holly Westfall. A former student, she had been in the first class he taught. Blonde and busty, she was never shy around men. Flirtation was her natural state of being.

“Holly,” he nodded.

“Why so glum?” she asked, flashing him her megawatt smile and daringly low bustline.

Kurt felt the urge to excuse himself, but alcohol-fueled anger kept him there.

“Long day is all.”

“Woman problems?” she asked, leaning in far too close for comfort.

Kurt moved away a bit and ordered another drink, changing the subject. “What are you drinking?” he asked.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” she answered, moving in once more. He ordered two shots of whiskey.

“So, how’s life been, Holly,” he asked, trying to find distance in the mundane.

She filled him in on her work, her company. How busy she was, no time for a personal life. But a desire. This last part took on a different tone as she leaned into him even further.

“How about you?” she asked through heavily lidded eyes. Her knee knocked his and he pulled away, confused by the fact that his body was responding to her. But the alcohol clouded his judgment when a more sober state of mind would have directed him straight back to his room behind a locked door, placing another call to the wife he loved, despite his hurt and anger.

“Bottoms up,” Holly laughed, inviting him to another drink, and then another. He found himself enjoying her attention, her hands as they touched him here and there. He gave in to his body, all thoughts of Diane washed away with another whiskey.

Until he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out to see the name he was trying to forget marching across his screen. “I’ve…I’ve gotta take this,” he told Holly, excusing himself.

“Hello?”

“Hey, cowboy,” her voice was low and flirty, but instead of the typical smile it brought to him, instead his anger swelled, fueled further by the alcohol and Holly’s presence at the bar. Kurt quickly made his way to his room as Diane rambled on about her week and offered one apology after another.

“Kurt…Kurt, are you listening?” her voice cut through the rage, only to ignite it further.

“Am I  _ listening _ ? Are you  _ kidding _ me, Diane? I have called and texted you for days now, and nothing. You can’t even be bothered to take a minute out of your day to call me back?”

“Kurt,  _ what _ ? Where is this coming from?” he imagined her icy blue stare as she drew back into herself, ever the calm, cool collected one in the many meetings she managed. But he wasn’t another client or lawyer to be managed. He was her husband.

“Diane, I am your  _ husband _ . Yet where do I rank in the course of your day? All I want is to talk to my wife at the end of the day, and you’re nowhere to be found.”

“Kurt, I’m sorry. But this…this is how it is. This is my life.”

“I thought  _ I _ was your life, too.” He said it low, almost defeated.

“Kurt…”

Anger and pain consumed him, and he resorted to his old ways of retreating. “Listen, I can’t do this right now. I’ve gotta go.” With that, he hung up, leaving her stunned.

She tried to call him back, but all her calls went straight to voicemail. “Kurt, please, I don’t want to fight.” Her messages became more desperate, then resigned. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone. We’ll talk when you get back. I love you.”

His phone turned off, Kurt lay across the bed in his hotel room awash in anger. A knock at the door startled him, and he opened it to find Holly there, waiting, available, and open and ready to give him whatever he needed. She flung her arms around him and kissed him, and in her arms he found his escape.

***

The next morning, Kurt woke to the weight of the woman next to him. Confused, it took him a minute to realize it was not his wife, but Holly. Panic took over, what had he done? Why?

Holly eventually woke and departed, leaving him with an awkward embrace and kiss. He immediately showered, washing away the sin of a night spent in the company of another woman.

All he wanted was to take the first flight home, but he was slated to present the next day. So he hid out in his hotel room. He listened to Diane’s messages, full of hurt and shock and love, and all he wanted to do was call her. So he did, several times, but there was no answer. Anger took hold once more.

He finally ventured out for dinner and found Holly waiting for him. They dined together with other colleagues, and found their way to his room once more, under the guise of going over his presentation. But anger and pain led him right back into her arms. In the afterglow, they continued to talk business as he shared with her his advice on swaying a jury. They spent the rest of the three days of the conference together, sharing shop talk and a bed each night. Kurt buried his guilt and shame in the deepest recesses of that long-forgotten barricade.

Kurt left Holly with no promises. She was young. Resilient. Has no doubt had many men. Now, he had to face the reality that he had broken the sacred vows he took. How could he face the woman to whom he made them?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of the affair

Arriving home late Wednesday, Kurt opted to return to the farm where he once more washed away all traces of Holly. He spent the night lying awake in bed, trying to decide the best course of action. He couldn’t tell Diane, couldn’t stand the thought of losing her because he let his anger lead him astray. He knew now more than ever that she was the only woman he ever wanted in his life, his bed, his arms. Holly was a distraction from the pain. Diane was the only balm.

So he went to her, arranging to cook dinner for her the following evening. She arrived home early to surprise him, relishing the sight of him at work in the kitchen of her apartment.

“Hey,” she said shyly, encircling him from behind. She knew he was hurt.

He set down the spoon used to stir their dinner and turned to her, the sight of her leaving him both wracked with guilt and full of love. He kissed her, hoping the physical connection would be enough to assuage his conflicted heart and heal them. She kissed him back with the same ardor, an apology manifested in physical form.

She pulled back and rested her head on his chest. “Kurt, I’m so glad you’re home.” He felt her body shake as the tears welled over. His chest constricted. He wasn’t the only one hurting.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling back to look at her. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know…how?” Trying to find an answer to their predicament. A way to make things work without changing anything.

“Diane, it’s okay. Let’s leave it for now. Dinner’s almost ready.”

She nodded and pulled away, moving to gather plates, silverware, glasses, and napkins to set the table. They reconnected over dinner, as was their custom, filling each other in on their time apart, only Kurt’s sharing had one glaring omission.

After dinner, they retired to the living room and cuddled in front of the fire. His heart started to settle again with the feel of her weight across him, her lips on his, her scent erasing what lingered of Holly. When his body responded to her, his wife, his beloved, it was out of deep love, not lustful anger. In her bed they reconnected, their lovemaking a balm of forgiveness offered to one another.

***

The following week, he encountered the person he least wanted to see, but fate had led him to her. Turns out they were both testifying on a case in town.

“Hey, stranger, how are you?” Holly flirted.

“Good, good,” he responded brusquely.

She invited him to grab a drink. He was hesitant, but she assured him this was business. He had told her when he left her that his heart belonged to Diane.

“So, Kurt, I was thinking about what you said last week at the conference…about retiring?”

He remembered the conversation that came on their last morning together, when he revealed that he was still deeply in love with his wife and was sorry to have led her on. He mentioned that perhaps it was time to retire and finally dedicate himself to making his marriage work.

To her credit, Holly took it in stride, offering him support. And now, she offered something even more.

“Kurt, I was thinking, if you  _ are _ serious about retiring, I’d like to buy your business.”

“What? Really?” He was stunned.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Listen, I have deep respect for you as a mentor and colleague. I’ve been looking to expand, and I thought – what better way? I trust the product you have built, and would be honored to take up the mantle.”

“Holly, even after…”

“Kurt, of course. That has nothing to do with this. That was pleasure.  _ This _ is business.” 

He felt a flood of relief. They entered into negotiation and sealed the deal with a handshake.

“Thanks so much, Holly. I’ll be in touch.”

***

Diane’s heart raced at his words. “We need to talk.” Kurt wasn’t a talker. This couldn’t be good. Her intuition told her something was still off since his conference, despite their apologies. She knew he was unhappy, knew they needed to talk, but she didn’t know how to find a way out of the life they had created for themselves.

But the news was something she never imagined. Selling his business? Moving in together? Being married in the fullest sense of the word? She was elated! She was also late for work, the 20 minutes she had to talk unraveling to two hours in his arms. Oh, how she loved him.

Then Holly Westfall waltzed into her conference room, and that same thread of intuition unfurled further.

She channeled her jealousy and suspicions into her work, demanding that he sell his business at its true value, accusing him obliquely of straying with his many blond Republican devotees. Anger roiled in them both.

When he appeared in her office, apology in hand, promises to find a new buyer, the truth remained unspoken yet written plainly in the tears that welled up in her eyes. He hated himself for causing her so much pain.

They opted for the bliss of ignorance in the weeks that followed as they recaptured that hope lost along the way and settled into domestic bliss, knowing now it was forever. Whatever did or did not happen with Holly, Diane knew her happiness lay with her husband.

But the thing about secrets and lies is they have a way of sneaking back in or rising up suddenly. In all places, it was the courtroom where Kurt’s broke through the wall of denial they had built, his affair with Holly now part of the court record and the record of their own story.

Diane could barely breathe as she heard Lucca’s accusation, a fact that she had avoided, buried, pretended could never be truth. Not Kurt. Never him. He was always true, more than she. But no amount of counterarguments could explain the deep sense of unsettledness that returned with him from his last time away.

She did that which she knew best – she ran away, standing and escaping the claustrophobic courtroom, avoiding her husband’s eyes. From the private lounge where her coat and purse were stored she exited the courthouse quickly. In her car she finally succumbed, sobs unleashed, shaking the small, enclosed space. She had to get out of here before he found her. Calming herself enough to drive, she took off. She couldn’t go to the office, nor to her home. He was there, he was everywhere. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulled into a posh downtown hotel and rented a room where she lay curled in a ball on the bed, her heart an empty chasm where once love lived.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as he was excused, Kurt ran to find her, but she was gone without a trace.

He called and called, leaving voicemail after voicemail of apology and love. “Please, Diane, please call me. Please. I love you. I can’t lose you.” He was sobbing.

***

She finally slept, exhausted from crying. It was a dreamless sleep followed by waking the next morning to the nightmare of Kurt’s betrayal. She thought she had cried all the tears she had, but more kept coming.

Her head was pounding from the combination of crying and not having eaten for the better part of a day. She rifled through her purse for aspirin when the glow of her cell phone caught her eye.

Twenty-four missed calls from Kurt. Full voicemail. And a series of text messages. The last one:

- _Please, at least let me know you are safe._

Some masochistic part of her decided to listen to the voicemails, all from him. The pleas, the apologies, the words of love that jarred her now instead of comforting her. She heard his tears, his sobs, and was angered. How dare he.

Yet somehow, she couldn’t delete the last one.

She debated about responding to his text, her better angels encouraging her to at least give him that. She opted instead to shower, to wash away the betrayal which clung to her like smoke in clothing. She scrubbed herself raw in the hot water, hot tears mingling with the runoff. Her legs gave way eventually and she sunk to the shower floor, sobs echoing, mingled with his name. How could she still yearn for this man who had handed her the ultimate betrayal?

Finally pulling herself up, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a robe, returning to the bed where she resumed the fetal position and sobbed herself to sleep.

She awoke to darkness in the middle of the night. She then felt her phone vibrating next to her, buried in the sheets. She dug it out, knowing it was him.

Unable to speak to him, she offered him the only mercy she could in her raw state, a text.

_-I am safe. Please give me space._

The read receipt immediately popped up, followed by the bubble with three dots.

_-Thank you. I understand. I love you, Diane. Always._

She dissolved into tears again.

***

Out at the farm, tears of relief ran down Kurt’s cheeks, having finally heard from her. She was safe. That’s all that mattered right now.

***

Diane took two weeks off from work to recover. Eventually she returned home, where she scrubbed every last vestige of Kurt from her life. She boxed up all his belongings and shipped them to him. She bought new sheets and blankets for their bedroom, donating the old ones. She even rearranged the kitchen and bought new pots and pans and place settings.

Returning to work was not easy, but without Kurt in her life, she could give all of herself to building the firm. One success after another followed. She began to feel like her old self, her pre-Kurt self, the woman who was always in the room where it happens, never affected by winsome desires. But eventually emptiness gnawed at her, and she decided maybe retirement to France would fill the void. So she put the plans in place.

***

Kurt opted to stay in business and lost himself in work, choosing to take cases out of town to escape the raw pain of lying in his bed without her each night and to avoid running into her in court. They were supposed to be living together now, but instead they were separated, their relationship only on paper. He honored her request for space. They communicated solely via email and text. How he missed the sound of her voice.

It was not until a year later that he saw her again as he waited for her on the front stoop of her apartment after receiving a call from her accountant in the wake of the Rindell Ponzi scheme.

“You want a divorce?”

He hid it well, the pain that those words brought him. He held back as she invited him in and gave him a drink, explaining it wasn’t about them, it was to protect him. It took every last ounce of energy not to take her in his arms when she broke down sobbing. “I’m a friend.”

She couldn’t accept this. The wound was still too raw, the betrayal too real. Which is why, when she saw him later in the week in her office and he gave word to his hope to live into whatever opening there was back to them, she abruptly told him the door was closed.

His anger belied his love for her. “Then divorce me! But I won’t do it!”

Unexpectedly, light crept in under that slammed door to her heart.

***

In the months that followed, something shifted for both of them. They ran into each other from time to time, as work brought Kurt back into town for a case he was committed to before they separated. The anger gave way to cordiality. Diane never followed through with divorce, offering Kurt some hope.

He carried that hope with him when he saw a missed call from her and found his way to her new firm. Though she denied having called him, he knew she was lying. He helped her to save face and asked for her help with a speech. It wasn’t out of character for him, she had always been the one he turned to at such times, but it was out of sync with their current arrangement. Yet she agreed.

When he kissed her in the empty auditorium after his speech, she responded without thinking, her arms looping around his neck, her body pressed to him. He held her tightly to him, all his words of apology and love poured out in physical prose.

When they finally came up for air, her eyes were wide with wonder. His were full of love.

He offered her a ride home, and she invited him in for a drink. That unexpected light would not be extinguished.

Out of habit, he lit the fire and took his long vacant spot on the sofa. She emerged with their drinks in hand and hesitated briefly, feeling as if she had walked back in time. There he was, her cowboy, waiting for her as he had so many a night, hand draped over the back of the sofa as he took in the flames before him, deep in thought. She drew in a deep breath and took her seat next to him, careful to keep some distance between them as she handed him his drink.

“Thanks,” he said, finally looking at her. The fire in his eyes gave the one in the hearth a run for its money.

“You’re welcome.” She held his gaze for a moment, then retreated to the corner of the couch, shifting her focus to the fire.

The sat in silence for quite some time, lost in thought, the air crackling beyond the sounds of the fire, electric nerves and long-squelched desire heavy in the air. He finished his drink and placed it on the table next to him, turning to face her, taking in her profile – the beautiful curve of her nose, the birthmark he loved to kiss. His heart swelled.

She felt his gaze on her but could not yet turn to him for fear of losing control of the conflicting emotions roiling inside of her. She opted instead to take his hand, now resting on the sofa beside him. Their fingers entwined, she heard his audible sigh, a sound that drew her to finally turn to him. He was waiting to receive her gaze.

“Kurt…”

Whatever she was about to say was swallowed up by his kiss. She responded instantly, all hesitancy burnt off by desire, her hands finding their way to his chest, then up around his neck where they played with his soft, gray hair. His meandered over her slim frame, tracing love lines over her back. She shivered at this touch, so familiar and so missed.

After many moments, she pulled back, stood up, and without a word, extended her hand. He took it, rising up to follow her as she led him to the bedroom. There, he continued to show her how much he loved her, only her, forever her. No amount of time apart could cause them to forget the love still woven into their very being. No amount of betrayal could unweave the infinite threads of love between them. Their yearning was fulfilled as he entered her, the missing piece to her puzzle of loneliness; her the key to his heavily guarded heart. Their moans of pleasure gave way to his whispered words of love. But once more, hers stuck in her throat. He understood, though it pained him not to hear them.

Despite this sticking point, both slept soundly in each other’s arms after a year of tossing and turning without the other. Kurt woke first, gazing lovingly at his wife. He didn’t want to disturb her, didn’t want to leave her, but the day called. Diane woke to find his side of the bed empty. Her heart sank. She rose, donned her robe and grabbed her laptop before returning to bed.

“Hey,” he said softly, emerging from the bathroom, fully clothed.

“Good morning.” Her heart swelled before retreating to the safety of separation.

He asked about the boxes and learned of her intention to move. She held her cards close to her chest, unwilling to reveal much. He offered to help her, asked her if she wanted to move in together.

She breathed deeply, contemplating his question, her heart shouting yes while her mind resounded with the firm no that she voiced.

“Why not?” He was trying to get her to open up to him, another point that was out of character for them. But everything had shifted off its axis in the wake of his betrayal.

“It’s my problem.”

He hid his disappointment well, opting instead to kiss her, and there he was reminded that she still felt deeply for him in her bodily response, despite her emotional distance. His heart sank when she sent him away, retreating to her work once more. But he had earned this treatment. Trust wasn’t something won back in bed. It was something rebuilt over time.

***

Diane held her emotions in check until she heard the front door close. Only then did the tears come. Last night had been great…greater than great. It had been the only thing that filled the void she was trying so hard to ignore. She pushed the thought away – no! She would _not_ be that wife – that woman who forgets and forgives and lets him back into her life. He left _her_ when he chose to sleep with his former student. Her only choice in response was to finalize the process.

She managed to gather herself together as she prepared for work. Once more, she lost herself to the law. It was her one constant.

Kurt called from time to time to check in. She took his calls when she could, but more often than not responded with texted excuses. She owed him nothing.

It was some months later when another call came. Marissa gave her the message, but the day got the better of her and she forgot about him. That is, until the hospital called. She heard his name and next of kin and all of her that was his rushed out from the prison in which she had placed it with a prayer.

“Please, please, please…”

The ride over was a blur. Triage was chaotic. Then, she saw the legs and that one shoe and she was transported back to that horrible day when she lost Will. _No, not Kurt, too! Please, please, please…_

She frantically searched for him.

“Diane?”

“Kurt!” Nothing else mattered. He was alive.

***

“I was calling to invite you to dinner.” His hand touched her cheek softly, mirroring his gentle tone.

Her heart swelled. She knew he still loved her, and the more she saw him, the more the hurt and anger that had been so tightly coiled in her being for a year began to unfurl and dissipate. In their place, new threads of forgiveness and desire and hope began to weave their way into her heart. Despite this, she found herself resistant. He had hurt her, so deeply, and she was afraid, so afraid to let him back into her heart, into her life. So afraid that she wasn’t strong enough to endure another such betrayal. So afraid to let herself love him fully again.

She opted for silence, accepting his words. God love him for trying to show her how much he loved her and desired her and wanted her back. But she still needed time.

Yet time stood still when she heard him give voice to his feelings in the drive outside his cabin. “I love you.” Spoken simply, if not a little raw with emotion.

“I was so hurt,” the tears came again, no longer held at bay.

“I know. It won’t happen again.”

Could she trust this? After all of the many Fox blondes; the Republican babes who hung on his every word?

“Stay. I’ll light a fire.”

All she wanted was to stay. To be held by him – to feel him alive and next to her after fearing she may lose him forever. Such near losses have a way of shifting perspective.

Diane turned without a word, not to leave, but to turn off the car, grab her purse, and join him. She saw the surprise on his face, quickly followed by the relief. They joined hands and walked together to his door.

Upon entering the door she was transported back to those many nights spent right here, falling in love with him. The rustic scent of wood and smoke and him, all contained in this simple dwelling. He turned to take her coat from her shoulders in the foyer, hanging it on the same hook that had become hers over their years together. His joined it on the next one.

“You okay?” he asked gently, a glimmer of fear cutting through the happiness and hope of his gaze.

She looked down briefly, gathering up all the feelings of nostalgia and fear and hope swirling in her, then, breathing deeply, raised her head and found her anchor in his eyes. “Perfect,” she responded, smiling shyly as she moved toward him, yearning to feel him near. She wrapped her arms around his torso gently and laid her head on his shoulder, breathing deep the scent of him. His arms encircled her in return, tracing lazy patterns down her back.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked quietly.

“Nope. All good here.”

They stood like that for a while, not wanting to let go. He kissed her temple before pulling away. “How about that fire?”

She smiled and nodded, following him, hand in hand, into the living room. She removed her shoes and found her spot on the sofa, tucking her legs up under her as she watched him. “Are you sure I can’t help?”

“Nah – I’ve got it.” Then, suddenly, “Would you like a drink?”

She smiled, remembering how he was always making sure she was cared for. “I’ll go see what you have.”

In the kitchen she managed to scrounge up some Scotch. “Kurt – did you eat? Are you hungry?”

“Nope – all full on hospital food. But help yourself to anything.”

She couldn’t eat if she tried, her stomach tight with anxiety and excitement over being here with him again.

“I’m good, too,” she said, grabbing the drinks and returning to the living room. He had assumed his place on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other. She took in the sight, so familiar yet so forgotten over a year of not seeing him. It was good to be reminded.

“Here,” she said, offering him his glass.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling warmly up at her. Always attuned to her, he must have sensed her anxiety as she hesitated. He reached out his other hand and took hers, his eyes never leaving hers. “Come, sit.”

She nodded and moved to sit next to him, drink in hand, legs tucked up under her again, causing her to lean in close. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple again. She sighed contentedly.

“Thank you for staying,” he nearly whispered.

She turned to look at him. “Thank you for inviting me. And for not dying,” she added and smiled, but the tears shone in her eyes.

He leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips. In return, her free hand reached up to cup his face, meeting him without hesitation, her tongue seeking his own, rejoining in a dance of intimacy choreographed over the years together.

“Kurt,” she sighed, pulling back slightly. “Is this…?”

He read her mind. “Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m okay. I promise,” he paused, drinking her in. “Let’s go to bed.”

She nodded and rose with him, following him upstairs to their bedroom full of memories. She hesitated momentarily at the threshold.

“It was never here,” he said, sensing the cause. “It was only in Florida during that conference.”

She felt the ache of pain once more, followed by some semblance of comfort. At least this bed was still only for her.

“Come,” he whispered gently.

She nodded and followed him in. Before their bed he enveloped her in his embrace, holding her close, trying to convey to her through his physical presence his apologies and love. He felt her tension relax, felt her finally melt into him once more. He opted to let her take the lead with what came next. After many long moments, her arms made their way up his chest and she laid her hands on either side of his face, eyes meeting his. “I love you, Kurt. I always have. Nothing, not even…” she paused, breathing deeply, “…nothing changed that.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. “Diane…”

It was then that she kissed him, fully, passionately, nothing held back. All of the love she had tried so hard to box up, to ship out of her life, was still deeply ingrained, written in her heart and soul. This man was all she ever wanted, all she ever needed… _always._

Their lovemaking was gentle, taking into account his physical wounds and her emotional ones. In the aftermath, sleep took hold, a sleep full of promise and hope and deep and abiding love.


	9. Chapter 9

The early light streaming through the window cast a glow upon the couple entwined on the bed. They slept peacefully, their breathing in sync, her head resting upon his chest, his arms surrounding her. No alarm woke them from their slumber. The power was still out and their cell phones were long forgotten by the front door. 

She was the first to stir, her eyelids fluttering at the burgeoning brightness. Finally, her consciousness followed, reminding her of where and with whom she was. Instinctively she snuggled closer, the hand draped over him drawing small patterns on his side. _I’m happy._ The thought surprised her, but it was true. She was never more happy than when she rested in his arms.

Secondary thoughts took hold. Doubts. Concerns. That dull ache of betrayal returned, stealing away the joy. What were they doing? Was she ready to reconcile? To try marriage again? Diane’s heart was torn.

Occupied by her thoughts, she failed to notice the slight shift in him that signaled his own wakefulness. Kurt gazed upon his wife, reveling in the feel of her in his arms. God, how he loved her. The thought of losing her - he was an idiot. He should have found the words to tell her he needed more. He should have loved her enough to trust that she would hear him, would respond to him. Instead, he nearly lost her with his stupid, impulsive, drunken decision. But now, maybe they could put that behind them. Maybe they could give this marriage the chance it deserved.

Kurt tightened his grip on her and kissed the crown of her head. Only then did he realize she, too, was awake as she looked up at him.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Morning,” he smiled. “Feeling much better with you here.” Drinking her in, moving to kiss her. It was then he sensed her hesitation in the way she momentarily pulled back before surrendering. He willed away any doubt. 

Diane gave in to his kiss, a kiss that slowly transformed into lovemaking, but still the words she felt in the depths of her heart failed to come. Fear took hold, infiltrating her thoughts in the aftermath. She quickly turned away from him to hide the tears that welled up, tensing when he spooned her.

Kurt felt the change once more and knew. She wasn’t ready. “Diane...talk to me.” Softly. Imploringly.

The tears spilled over and a sob erupted, shaking her entire body. Kurt clung to her, his physical presence the only comfort he could offer as words failed him once more.

Eventually, her sobs subsided, but she remained in his arms, trying to draw strength from the same man who had weakened her so. Why was their relationship so complicated? Why had she ever let him in? Why _couldn’t_ she be that wife - the one who forgives?

Ever patient, Kurt held her close, allowing her to work through her emotions. Finally, she turned to him, her face blotchy and swollen, but no less beautiful. “Kurt, I…” she cleared her throat. “I want this...waking up to you. Being with you. But...I...I’m not ready. I’m sorry...I want to, but I can’t. Not yet.”

The pit in his stomach opened up, nearly swallowing him whole. But his body told the story of his shuttered heart, drawing her in tighter, clinging to her. 

To her credit, she didn’t fight him but gave him the small mercy of remaining in his embrace. It was only when she felt his tears that she pulled back to look at him. “Kurt,” she whispered, taking his face in her hands and brushing away the tears that fell. “I’m not saying no. Just not yet. I need more time.” 

He nodded, swiping the tears from his eyes as he turned away from her to sit on the edge of the bed. He cleared his throat. “I, um, I have a series of cases in California over the next few months. So I guess we’ll have some space.”

She watched him, hot tears gathering in the corners of her eyes in response to the resignation of his tone. Away again. Immediately feelings of distrust followed. Months away. Space. Space for him to roam.

“Can I call you?” 

The words cut through her obsessing, momentarily warming her heart. A small smile graced her lips. “Yes, I’d like that.”

He turned, finally, to look upon her, his voice breaking. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She reached out her hand to take his, squeezing it, trying not only to reassure him, but also herself. After a few moments passed, she let go and rose from the bed. “I should go.”

“Diane, please...don’t…” Desperate.

She ignored his request as she began to gather her clothing. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” she said, finally looking at him as she stood before him, the garments she held shielding her naked body.

He nodded, defeated.

Diane retreated to the bathroom where she dressed, washed the tears from her face, and gathered up the last vestiges of strength within to once more leave this man she loved so deeply.

After a chaste kiss, Kurt watched her go, his raw heart beating a rhythm of grief and self-loathing. Though she claimed it wasn’t the end, it sure as hell felt so.


	10. Holiday Interlude: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set between season one and two of “The Good Fight.” Kurt and Diane are still separated, but the holidays bring them back together for a spell. Two parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my fellow McHart fans!
> 
> First, a huge thank you to all of you who have read, commented, offered kudos, and otherwise encouraged me in this effort. So grateful!
> 
> Second, continued gratitude to my beta who inspires me and challenges me in this effort, and who is just an all around amazing person!
> 
> I offer to you a two-part holiday interlude in celebration of the new year! I was hoping to have the work finished by now, but decided I needed a rewatch of TGF to inspire the final chapters. 
> 
> Here is Part One of this interlude. Part Two will be uploaded later on NYE.
> 
> More chapters continuing the story will be forthcoming soon.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Happy New Year!  
> Hope

Their separation carried on over the course of the next year. Kurt was away more than he was in town, which offered Diane the space she needed. Kurt, for his part, called her every Sunday afternoon to check in. She always answered. Some conversations were brief; others long. Kurt felt as if he was courting her all over again, but he refused to give up on them.

As the holiday season approached, Kurt was wrapping up his latest case, about to fly back east to a lonely stretch of time between Christmas and New Year’s. Up until their separation, this was always a period spent with Diane. After years of holidays spent either alone or in brief stints with distant relatives and friends (Kurt’s parents were long gone and he had no siblings), he enjoyed celebrating with his wife. Kurt never much cared for the season until he spent it with her. Diane went all out with decorating the house; she planned outings to holiday events; and she baked her famous Christmas cookies, an age-old family recipe. Kurt loved helping her, a rare event given her lack of culinary skills, but the woman could bake! He had missed the sight and smell of her baking last Christmas. Now, he faced another devoid of this rare domestic moment he so treasured.

The long plane flight home afforded Kurt time to consider his options. He had received several invites from old friends and his cousins in St. Louis. He considered these, but found them unappealing at best. He wanted Diane. He knew she still needed space, but they’d had so much. Maybe the holidays could be different…

Upon landing in Chicago, Kurt turned on his cell phone and immediately called her. 

“Kurt?” She sounded concerned.

“Hi,” he drew in a deep breath. “I just landed in Chicago. Christmas is in two days. Spend it with me. Please.”

Sitting in her office, Diane found herself speechless. Her heart was racing as she considered his invitation.

Kurt was further strengthened by her silence. “Listen, I know you probably already have plans. And well, Jesus, Diane, I miss you. I miss Christmas with you. I don’t want to spend another one without your decorations, your music, your cookies...you. Please.” 

Diane felt tears prick her eyes as her heart warmed at her husband’s words. Truth be told, she had no plans. Invites galore, but nothing accepted. She wasn’t feeling much in the spirit of the season. She blamed Trump, work stress, the unusually warm weather, but if she was honest, she couldn’t imagine another Christmas without him. 

“Okay,” she whispered through her tears.

Kurt was simultaneously stunned and exhilarated. “Yeah, well...okay. Good.”

Diane smiled, hearing his surprise. “Why don’t you plan on coming Christmas Eve around noon. And bring a bag.”

Kurt smiled, his heart skipping a beat. She was inviting him to stay. “Okay. I will.”

“Wonderful.” She was cut off by someone talking in the background before returning to the line. “I’m sorry, Kurt, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course - yes.”

“Oh, and Kurt?” She paused for a moment. “Thank you.” Quiet but full of promise.

Kurt smiled. “Noooo...thank _you_.”

***

The doorbell rang promptly at noon on Christmas Eve. Diane was in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes, when the sound startled her from the task at hand. She managed to carve a path out to the foyer and opened the door to find her husband with overnight bag and some additional items in hand.

“Hi,” she greeted him with a shy smile.  
  


“Hey. Merry Christmas.” Kurt’s heart swelled at the sight of her. He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. She was dressed casually in jeans and an old sweatshirt that belonged to him, and her hair was mussed. “Everything okay?”

“Oh! Yes – just – I’m just pulling out the decorations. I thought, maybe…maybe we could get a tree?” Tentative.

Kurt couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think we can manage that, yes.”

Diane visibly relaxed and smiled. “Okay, great – oh! Come in, come in. Let me…ummm…we can put your bag in the bedroom.” She blushed. “And…what…what are these?” she inquired, referring to the other items he was carrying.

“Food…and some other surprises.” His gaze never moved from her.

“Oh, okay. Well, let’s get things put away then,” she said, turning quickly to lead him into the kitchen, the blush intensifying despite her attempt to cover her feelings. He had brought her Christmas gifts! She wasn’t prepared. She had nothing ready, not the house, not the cookies, and certainly no gifts. She was in court for two weeks straight, working 80 hour weeks. The schedule had made sense when she had no plans, but now she was bereft. “I…I’m sorry I’m not ready for you…it’s just been crazy at work…”

She rambled on while Kurt studied her, reading her innermost thoughts clearly despite her attempt to hide behind the work excuses and unpacking the food. “Hey,” he said softly, moving toward her and gently taking her hand. “It’s okay. I miss doing all of this _together_.”

Diane couldn’t hide the surprise and awe that washed over her. Words failed her, so she resorted to a nod.

Kurt tugged at her hand, tentatively inviting her closer. “All I want is right here.” She smiled shyly before allowing him to embrace her. Kurt felt her hesitation, but he refused to let her go, drawing soothing circles on her back as he breathed in the scent of this woman he so loved.

Diane let herself be held by him, the tension of uncertainty eventually dissipating. She sighed and relaxed into his embrace, breathing in his unique scent of leather and gunpowder and masculinity. They stood for several minutes like this before he drew back to look at her.

“How about we finish putting these things away and get that tree?”

She smiled and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

***

Later, they sat side by side on the sofa, taking in the sight of their newly acquired and decorated tree as they enjoyed Diane’s freshly baked cookies and cocoa. Kurt’s wrapped gifts were beneath the tree, along with a simple white envelope with his name written across it in her distinct handwriting. They would open them tomorrow.

The day had continued on with a sense of ease as they fell comfortably into holiday preparations. They set up and decorated the tree together. Kurt prepared dinner while Diane began her baking, the couple catching up on their lives over the past week since their established Sunday phone call. Dinner was delicious – his signature prime rib she had come to associate with Christmas Eve since marrying him. Now, as midnight approached, the calm was shifting to something else as two estranged lovers contemplated how the night would end.

Kurt waited patiently for Diane to dictate the course of things. He wanted to honor her needs, whatever they were, despite his own deep desire to wrap her in his arms and carry her to bed. Noting that the fire was burning low, he rose to stoke it, but was stopped by her hand reaching out for him.

“No, leave it.” He turned to look at her, his expression a mix of surprise and hope. “Let’s…let’s go to bed.” He searched her eyes, careful to look for any hint of doubt. She knew what he was doing. “Kurt…take me to bed.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He turned and pulled her up into his arms and kissed her fully. No more hesitation. No more doubt. His kiss said all that he couldn’t say about his love for her, his desire for her, his life made better because of her.

She responded fully, her hands combing through his hair, her lips and tongue meeting his with equal fervor and delight. Suddenly, he scooped her up and carried her to her bed, a new bed, a bed that had not yet learned their story in an apartment that was evidence of this period of painful separation. Kurt slowly undressed her, worshipfully kissing every bit of her body revealed, telling her in the language they always spoke so well how much he loved her – all of her, only her, _always_ her. Her moans and cries in response signaled her opening to him once more, her orgasm a powerful reminder of the effect he still had on her. After laying next to him for a spell to recover, she silently undressed him and drew him on top of her, feeling his desire for her warm and hard against her. She stared into his eyes, trying to say without words all she felt for him, despite all that had occurred. Then, she drew him in, savoring every inch of him, rejoicing in this reunion with the only man she ever loved so deeply and devotedly – her husband; her cowboy; her always. 


	11. Holiday Interlude: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part of Christmas/New Year 2017. Set between season one and season two of "The Good Fight."

Diane was the first to wake the next morning. Eyes fluttering open, she took in the vision of her husband lying peacefully next to her, soundly asleep. Even in slumber his energy had a grounding effect on her; even after all that had transpired, her heart still belonged to him.

Quietly, she rose from the bed and made her way out to the living room and her desk. She slowly pulled open the top left drawer which held her stationary and selected a blank notecard with a simple “D” embossed on it. Though she had managed to pull together a last minute gift for him in the form of a gift certificate to his favorite hunting outfitter, the envelope below the tree was incomplete. She went to work on an accompanying letter in which she offered him a much more personal gift.

_December 25, 2017_

_My dear cowboy, my beloved, my Kurt,_

_It seems it was just yesterday that I wrote you a simple “Thank you” on similar stationary. I can hardly believe that nearly eight years have passed since you walked into my office and offered your services, yet what was received was so much greater, so unexpected, so pure. I remember the conflicted emotions of a deep sense of knowing that you were the love of my life juxtaposed with fear. I was terrified, and so I ran. And you ran. But somehow we managed to find our way back to one another for good._

_On this Christmas Day, as you sleep in my bed after all of the events of the past year and a half, I must admit that I find myself wrestling with the same conflicting feelings. Kurt, I love you, more deeply and broadly and fully than I did those many years ago. And because of this love, I still carry the pain of this wound that is also deep, pain that leaves me once more terrified._

_Waking to you on Christmas has been the greatest gift, and I want that gift. I want it now and always. I need you to know this, even though our marriage is still healing. I need you to know that I want this healing, and I am so grateful for your patience with me as I take the time needed to let that happen. I wish I could speed it along, but I guess the only silver lining is that the depth of my pain correlates to the depth of my love for you. _

_As we move toward a new year, I want to live into this love. I can think of nothing better to symbolize this than spending New Year’s Eve with you. Will you join me?_

_All my love, always,_

_Diane_

Diane re-read the words of her heart before sealing the card in a second envelope, across which she wrote her husband’s name. She added this to the other beneath the tree.

***

Kurt woke to the smell of coffee brewing and an empty space beside him in bed. He stretched out, the muscles of his body deliciously achy from a night of lovemaking, before tending to his morning bathroom routine.

Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bedroom and took in the sight of his wife curled up in a blanket on the sofa, a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of her, staring blissfully at the lit Christmas tree.

“Good morning,” he said after some moments passed.

Diane’s gaze shifted to him and her face lit up as she responded softly. “Good morning! Merry Christmas!”

Kurt crossed the room and knelt beside her, running his hand down her soft cheek before gracing her with a chaste Christmas kiss. Diane leaned into him to return it, her hand running through his hair.

“Coffee’s ready, can I get you some?” she inquired after they parted.

“No, thank you. I’ll get it. Was thinking eggs and bacon for breakfast – and I have those cinnamon buns you love. Are you hungry now?”

“Ummm, I can wait, if you can. I thought, maybe…” her voice trailed off as she looked to the gifts beneath the tree.

Kurt smiled, knowing how much his wife loved opening presents. “Ahhh, yes. Looks like Santa came,” he said with a wink. “Come on, let’s see what he brought us.”

Diane smiled widely and took his offered hand as together they moved to sit on the floor next to the tree. Kurt kept up the charade, reading her name off each tag with his characteristic “From Santa” – a tradition brought to them from his own family. The first box he handed her was the largest of the group.

Diane looked at him with a knowing smile. The box was square and heavy and she easily guessed it contained some of her favorite wines. Upon removing the paper, she discovered she was correct. A wonderfully curated collection of whites and reds greeted her. It was a gift from one who knew her tastes intimately. “Thank you,” she said.

“Now, this one.” Kurt handed her a second gift. It was a smaller, rectangular box. Diane made quick work of the paper to reveal a collection of body wash, lotion, and perfume in her – and his – favorite scent. Her smile grew brighter.

Next, a small, flat box contained a gift certificate to her favorite spa. Another small box held a beautiful Hermès scarf.

Diane felt herself warmed by his kindness in presenting her with such thoughtful and fitting gifts. She reached over to squeeze his hand. “Thank you. You…you didn’t have to do all of this.”

He nodded and smiled sheepishly. “I know…I _wanted_ to.”

Breaking the spell, Diane exclaimed “Oh! Your turn!”

“Wait a minute, there’s one more Santa tucked away here for safe keeping,” he said, pulling out a long, white envelope with her name penned on it.

Diane’s brow furrowed at the sight of the additional gift. “What in the world…?”

“Open it.”

She looked at him once more before doing just that. Inside she was greeted with a brochure about Provence, in France, and a note that she was the recipient of an all-expense paid trip to her favorite place, to be taken when her schedule allowed it. She poured over the gift, stunned.

“I…I know it’s not the house you wanted. But, I thought you might still benefit from some time away in the midst of all that’s happening in the world.”

“Kurt.” His name was spoken with the hefty weight of emotion as tears shone in her eyes, which finally met his own.

“I’d buy you the house if you let me,” he added quietly.

Without hesitation, Diane cast aside the gift and wrapping as she launched herself into his arms. He received her joyfully, his own happiness so intricately woven into hers. If he spent the rest of his life making her smile, it wouldn’t be long enough.

After some moments she pulled back and kissed him soundly. “Mmmm…” another kiss…”now you…” and another. “I’m sorry mine can’t match yours.”

“Diane, please. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know…but I _wanted_ to.” A smile and a wink followed.

Kurt received the two envelopes, grateful for the generous certificate from a woman who spent her life lobbying against guns. “Must have been difficult hitting ‘Purchase’ on this one,” he quipped.

“Well, I suppose you’re worth it,” she fired back.

Kurt then directed his attention to the second envelope, drawing the simple notecard forth. He looked up at her before reading, and she nodded to encourage him. He took his time taking in her words, the force of her love barely contained within the carefully constructed sentences. His awe gave way to shock, then wonder, when he read her invitation to spend the New Year with her.

He sat quietly, reading and re-reading the words, just barely holding himself together. Finally, her voice cut through. “Ummm, so…what do you say?”

He looked up with eyes full of all the myriad emotions she managed to elicit in him. “Yes.” Simply stated but full of love.

She smiled shyly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Good.”

“Come here,” he beckoned, his words broken with emotion. Diane returned to him, folding herself in his lap and looping her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Mmmm…welcome.”

They kissed once more, a symbol of their strength, their commitment, and their love.

***

New Year’s Eve was spent together. They opted to travel out to his cabin and enjoy the quiet of the country. Diane was sure to pack more of her famous Christmas cookies, and Kurt picked up all the specialty foods he knew she loved for the evening. Since Kurt would be leaving for Los Angeles for another court case early on January 3, they traveled together in Diane’s car so she could drop him off at the airport on the way back. His truck remained at her apartment in the city for when he returned.

They had spent the better part of the week together, enjoying the slower pace of schedule and the company of one another. They watched some of their favorite Christmas movies, went for long walks, visited a few local holiday events, and made love each and every night. Something was shifting, no doubt, but reconciliation was a delicate process held carefully by both of them. Neither wanted to force something too quickly, yet neither did either wish to let go. Instead, they opted for enjoying the present moment of togetherness for everything it offered.

Unlike previous New Year’s Eves, often spent at swanky parties with liberal elites in the city, they instead traded in their gown and tux for cozy loungewear and a fire, enjoying the variety of delicacies Kurt had purchased, washed down with fine wine and liquor. The midnight hour was sealed with a kiss of promise to continue the work of rebuilding, followed by long hours of languid lovemaking in the bed they had shared over the years.

Under cover of night, resting in one another’s arms, Diane was first to break the silence. "How long will you be gone this time?” she inquired, referring to his upcoming case.

“Hard to tell, but I’d guess at least a few months.” He felt her tense in his arms. “I might be able to squeeze in a weekend here and there,” he added, trying to comfort her.

She nodded in return without looking at him. “That might be nice.”

Kurt breathed deep, collecting his thoughts, trying to find the right words. “Diane, whenever…when…when _we’re_ ready,” – he stressed the _we’re_ – “I’m willing to step away from traveling and focus on _us_.”

Diane took in his earnest gaze as she considered his words. She felt conflicted once more. Part of her desired to declare her readiness, while another, still very present part of her hesitated. She felt guilty. Here he was, showing up again and again, and yet still, she struggled to let go of their period of separation. Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded before looking at him. “Kurt…I…” her voice broke as she struggled to find the words.

Ever the hero, he rescued her. “It’s okay, I understand.” And he did understand, much as it also deeply disappointed him. She needed more time.

“Please, don’t give up on me.” Tears brightened her beautiful blue eyes.

“Never,” he said softly, drawing her close. They lay entwined in silence for some time, peppered with whispered words of love, before falling asleep peacefully, looking to each day of the new year as another step toward healing and wholeness; each encounter another opportunity to shift from the strain of separation to the rapprochement of reconciliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> I'm back to writing after a bit of a hiatus. Thanks for your patience. 
> 
> We continue to fill in the blanks - we're now in Season 2 of "The Good Fight."
> 
> My thanks to the BEST BETA EVER who inspires me and is also just an all around great friend!
> 
> Credit to Michelle and Robert King and all writers, and the actors who give these characters life. You are all an inspiration!
> 
> And now...on with the story...

Months passed, and Diane and Kurt remained separated. Kurt’s case in Los Angeles meant they connected primarily via phone and video chat. Kurt continued to keep their Sunday afternoon phone calls. Diane answered them religiously – despite all that had transpired, her deepest desire was to forgive her husband and reunite with him. The ring he placed on her finger remained in place as a testament to this commitment; even in the darkest, most divided days of their marriage, she never removed it. It was as much a part of her as he was.

Diane continued to find success with her new firm. She enjoyed the environment and had found a wonderful working rapport with Adrian Boseman. She discovered he filled a void that had been missing since she lost Will so suddenly and tragically. Things were swiftly changing – they had expanded the office and employees, and Barbara Kolstad’s exit was quickly followed by the addition of Liz Reddick. Once more, Diane’s name graced the signs and letterhead with her promotion to named partner after her addition of ChumHum to their client list.

As the firm prepared to celebrate their expansion, Diane found herself more and more irritated with Kurt. Three months into a case, he continued to suggest a weekend together. “Fly out for the weekend – I miss you.” Diane continued to stand her ground on their separation, and tried to explain that now was not a good time with all that was happening at the firm. She failed to mention her tensions with Liz, the challenges with Maia’s trial, and the fact that multiple lawyer deaths had her more worried than she would ever let on. These were things she would once share with her husband, but Diane continued to hold back, sticking to more surface topics despite Kurt’s obvious attempts to invite deeper conversation.

Kurt heard her excuses, but refused to give up on them. The more he was away in California, the more he realized the truth of his words about stopping traveling. All he wanted was to be back in Chicago with her. Yet, while work was the least of his concerns, it consumed her once more. Kurt noticed a shift in his wife, albeit mostly subtle. Her anger was closer to the surface, irritation coloring her tone more often than not. He assumed this was directed at him, a sign of her continued struggle to forgive him. At other times, she seemed to be without a filter, saying anything that came to mind, a far cry from her standard measured response to most of life. Again, he chalked this up to their relationship issues, further fueling his desire not only to speak to her, but to see her.

Tired of the distance emotionally and physically, Kurt placed a Facetime call to her during a break in trial one weekday. “Fly out this weekend – it’s only a six hour flight.”

“Yes, but is that really the right thing?” Diane continued to stand her ground, saved from another disagreement by a break in their connection.

***

Diane woke to the ping of a text message on her phone. The glare of daylight exacerbated her very present headache, the consequence of a night of heavy drinking. As she became aware of her surroundings, the pain in her head was joined by a sinking sourness in her stomach. She was not in her own bed, and the male next to her was not her husband, but the surly bartender who had unabashedly flirted with her at the firm’s party.

- _Where r u? Kurt’s here!!!_

Diane’s heart simultaneously raced and sunk upon reading Marissa’s text. What had she done? Though irritated with Kurt, she had never given up on their marriage, but the previous night’s cocktail of wine and psilocybin rendered her reckless.

She quickly escaped, casting off Tully’s desire to see her again. Back at her apartment, a hot shower and vigorous scrub did little to wash away the guilt she felt. Appropriately, she dressed in black, already mourning the loss of that which she most desired. At work, she did her best to focus on the matters at hand, but the knowledge that Kurt was in town and could show up at any moment weighted heavily on her. Finally, he did, entering her office with roses in hand.

Seeing him sealed the deal – she couldn’t lose him. She had made a horrible mistake, and she wanted nothing more than to turn back time and right it. Ironically, it was this that helped her to better understand her husband and how he must have felt these nearly two years. They say two wrongs don’t make a right, but in this case, they were wrong.

“I’m done with this separation.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” she wept, launching herself into his arms.

Her confession on the tip of her tongue, when she pulled back to look at him, her fear that he would never want to see her again caused her to swallow it down and instead offer a shallow excuse for her current state – work this weekend.

Kurt wiped away her tears, both confused and relieved by her vulnerability. He assured her that he would see her that evening. “I’ll be at the Westin.”

“No, Kurt, no – here. Take my keys. Stay at my place. Please.”

Kurt looked at her skeptically. “You sure?”

“Yes, yes – I’m certain.” Diane quickly dug through her purse, removing her apartment key from her keychain and handing it to him. “Make yourself at home.”

Kurt nodded and looked at her once more, trying to read the subtext of this unexpected emotional encounter. Diane averted her gaze, fearing he would read the truth in her eyes.

“By the way, these are for you,” he finally spoke, moving his head to catch her eye. It was then that he was rewarded by the shy smile he knew and loved as he handed her the bouquet of red roses.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” With that he leaned in to kiss her softly. Diane accepted his kiss briefly before pulling back. Figuring her chaste behavior had to do with the full office around them, Kurt smiled and with a light touch to her arm, left her. “I’ll have dinner ready at 7.”

Diane nodded, the tears filling her eyes once more as she watched him walk away.

***

Diane made sure to be home for dinner, unable to shake the guilt that wracked her. She arrived home to find Kurt hard at work in the kitchen. It had always been a sight that brought her joy, but this time fear consumed her. What if she lost him forever?

She managed to zip up her emotions as they caught up over dinner, followed by drinks in front of the fire. Being with him was almost unbearable. She found herself unable to relax, worried that he would see through her, ashamed. Her compassion, knowing now how it must have been for him, was the one point where she could connect. When she focused there, she found herself snuggling closer, kissing him deeply, and succumbing to the throes of passion that had never been a problem. Making love with Kurt was a way of giving herself back to him, without him ever knowing that she had strayed. Still, as they lay together afterward, the guilt crept in and tears filled her eyes.

Kurt noticed the shift in his wife, once more relating it to the stress of their separation. “Hey,” he ventured gently, wiping a tear from her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Diane closed her eyes to keep more tears at bay.

“Diane, talk to me…what is it?”

She opened her eyes again, her heart torn between stopping and racing. How could she tell him? She had to put it behind her – pretend like it never happened. Refocus on her husband and repairing their relationship. “I just…I missed you,” she said breathily. It was true, she had missed him. Missed the Kurt she knew before he cheated. The Kurt who was honorable and trustworthy. The Kurt who she trusted implicitly. But now, she realized that Kurt was still there, still loving her, just as she was still here loving him after sleeping with another man.

Kurt’s eyes softened in response to his wife’s words. Still, he worried about her. “Diane, are you okay?”

A feverish look greeted his words, but she remained silent.

“Listen, I…I don’t know…something is different in these past few months. You just haven’t seemed yourself. I don’t know, more…ummm…emotional than usual. Not that that’s a bad thing – just, it’s not like you.” He continued to gaze upon her with concern and love.

Diane realized there was so much she had kept from him beyond Tully – that was but the pinnacle of months of emotional distance. Drawing a deep breath, she started to open up to him, her husband, her best friend. The two lay together for hours as she shared the challenges at work, with Maia, and her fears related to attorney deaths. He listened intently, offering support, advice where appropriate, and the comfort of his arms when needed.

As his wife opened up, the relief Kurt felt was palpable. This was why he needed to change things – because they couldn’t make this marriage work being apart so often. There was something about being physically present with Diane that made everything better. He decided then and there to begin to explore options to find employment in Chicago, hoping that to be the final step in reclaiming their marriage and sealing their love.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We continue our journey, now into Season Two of "The Good Fight." Many thanks to the Kings, all the writers, the amazing actors who bring these characters to life, and all the others who make the show (and "The Good Wife" before it) possible. The characters belong to you - I am simply inspired enough to fill in the blanks.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Just a few more weeks,” Kurt thought to himself as he packed up his bag on Sunday morning. His time with Diane had been wonderful, albeit truncated by her work schedule and his need to return to LA to testify. He had already reached out to an old friend from the service to inquire about job opportunities based in Chicago and eagerly awaited his response.

In the meantime, he was scheduled back in Chicago to testify on behalf of one of Diane’s clients, Rashid Clarkson, in a month’s time. He looked forward to spending time with her outside of work as well.

Kurt double-checked to make sure he had everything he needed, his gaze landing on Diane’s bedside table, on which sat a stack of blank index cards and a pen. It was a familiar sight, the place where she made notes for trial before bed, upon waking in the middle of the night, and first thing in the morning. It amazed him how her mind was never far from work, though he had to admit it was also a reason he often felt neglected through the years. Drawing in a deep breath, he refocused on his love for his wife as he sat down and pulled a blank index card off the top of the pile.

_I love you. Always. -K_

It was a simple note that said it all. Heart full of hope, Kurt propped it up on her lamp, grabbed his bag and made his way to the kitchen, where Diane was cleaning up from their breakfast.

“All packed?”

“Yep – car’s picking me up in about an hour.”

“Hmmm…so we have some time?” She carefully hung up the dishtowel she had been holding before making her way over to him, eyes flashing with love and desire.

“A bit, yes,” he smirked, taking her in his arms when she reached him. His lips met hers, gently at first, but soon shifting into something deeper, more driven by desire. Diane’s hands found their way to his shirt, untucking it and making quick work of each button. Meanwhile, he easily discarded her sweater, then bra. Pants followed, then underwear. There was no clumsy attempt toward the bedroom, instead, they sank to the ground right there in the kitchen, Diane straddling Kurt. Their eyes never left one another as they made love, hands intertwined, ecstatic echoes filling the kitchen space.

After, the couple managed to move to the sofa, chests heaving, smiles of satisfaction lighting up their faces. Kurt lay flat on his back with Diane snuggled into the crook of his arm next to him, her back flat to the back of the couch, hand on his chest.

“Not a bad way to say goodbye,” Kurt quipped.

Diane laughed gently. “Hmmm, no, not at all.” Her hand moved from his chest to his cheek. “I’ll miss you…”

He took her hand in his, eyes never leaving hers. “I’ll be back in a few weeks for the Clarkson case.”

“Oh yes, which reminds me, we’ll be sending you some things this week.” She moved to grab her phone on the coffee table, never far from work.

Kurt tugged on her hand, redirecting her attention to him. “It can wait,” he spoke softly. He gazed deeply into her clear, blue eyes, conveying all he felt. But he knew now he also had to say these things to her – she needed to hear it. “I love you, Diane.”

She released her breath and a small smile graced her lips as she gently removed her hand from his grasp and once more laid it on his cheek. “I love you, too, Kurt.” Softly, but full of certainty. Their lips met again, a physical seal of the love each felt.

***

Later, hours after Kurt had departed, Diane made her way upstairs to prepare for bed. She had a long week ahead of her, but was glad to return to work as a distraction from the dark secret that still haunted her. Her weekend with Kurt was perfect – she almost forgot where she had woken the morning he arrived. But every so often, the sinking sensation returned, and she feared that Kurt would see the truth in her eyes. If he did, he never let on.

_I can’t…I can’t lose him. Maybe I should tell him – not hide it. I know what that was like – to find out through someone else. But, what if…_

Her thoughts raced, and she figured sleep would not come easily that evening. Until, as she crawled into bed and went to retrieve the book she had been reading from her nightstand, she caught sight of his note _. I love you. Always. -K_. It didn’t solve her problem, but it was enough to quell her anxieties for the night.

Picking up her phone, she shot off a quick text in response:

_-I love you, too. Always._

***

In his hotel room in LA, Kurt’s heart swelled as he read his wife’s text. Love would carry them through. Always.

***

A few weeks later, Kurt was back in Chicago, testifying for the Clarkson case. He and Diane had caught up via phone while he was away, as usual. He arrived back in town late Friday night and checked into his hotel room for the trial.

_-Landed safely and checked in at the hotel. Love you._

Kurt laid his phone on the nightstand while he showered and changed. He came back out to find a text waiting from Diane.

_-Wanna come over?_

_-On my way._

_***_

A half hour later, Diane rose from the sofa to answer the doorbell. Her heart swelled at the sight of him – hair still damp and a bit disheveled, but sexy as ever. His lopsided grin met her wide smile.

“Seems I need to start paying you for my hotel stays,” he quipped dryly.

“Ha! Get in here,” she laughed, pulling him inside and kissing him fully.

Kurt’s arms surrounded her slim waist, holding her tight to him. When they parted, he couldn’t help but voice what was in his heart. “God, I missed you.”

Diane smiled warmly. “I missed you, too. Come on, let’s catch up. Can I get you anything? Scotch?” The words trailed after her as she moved into the kitchen, Kurt following in her wake.

“Scotch is good. Thanks.” He watched as she deftly grabbed a fancy cut glass crystal tumbler from atop the liquor cabinet in the living room, filling it with the expensive amber liquid she knew was his favorite.

“Sit down, please,” she said, motioning to the sofa. Kurt took his place, noting the cozy fire and her own half-full tumbler of Scotch. A book – Russian literature – lay open, facedown, on the coffee table.

“Another go at Tolstoy, I see,” he remarked.

Diane smiled as she crossed the room and took her spot next to him, drawing her long legs under her. “Here,” she said, handing him the tumbler. He thanked her with a nod. “Yes, you know it’s a favorite. A nice reprieve from all the work piling up – and I already know the story by heart, so I don’t have to concentrate as much.”

“Ahhh, yes. Makes sense.” Kurt sipped the sharp liquid, enjoying the way it slipped down his throat. “So…sounds like it was quite a week?”

“You could say that, yes.” Something shifted in her expression – Kurt couldn’t quite make it out. Almost a grimace.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Diane looked at him directly, seeming to calculate her response. Kurt waited patiently. “No, not really,” she finally answered, drawing closer to him.

Warmth moved through Kurt, along with that familiar tightening sensation in his groin. After all they had been through, she still turned him on. He made the next move, leaning in and softly kissing her. Diane responded fully, and before long they had discarded their drinks and their clothing, leaving a trail into the bedroom. There, they reunited – body and soul – their lovemaking moving from the wild abandon of two who were separated for far too long to the slow, sensuous dance of soulmates forever bound by love.

After, tangled up in each other, her head on his chest, Diane fought to contain the tears that overcame her. That shift Kurt had caught earlier was a glimpse of the guilt and shame that continued to whirl within, barely kept at bay by work and Russian novels. Tully continued to call from time to time, one call resulting in her bailing him out of jail. She questioned why she continued to take his calls when she so wanted to reconcile with her husband. Everything was a mess and she didn’t know how to clean it up. It didn’t help that she continued to microdose to help ease her mind.

Kurt felt the tear that managed to escape hit his chest. Without a word, he hugged her tighter, his hand stroking her back. It killed him that his selfish, drunken actions continued to affect her so deeply nearly two years later. He feared they would never find their way back to something better than what they had thought was a secure marriage.

Diane felt his arms tighten, calling forth more tears. Soon, she was sobbing in her husband’s arms. He continued to comfort her, rubbing her back, kissing the crown of her head, allowing her to get it all out. Finally, her breathing began to regulate, and she raised her head to wipe her tear-stained face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Kurt looked at her intently. “I’m here, Diane. I’m not leaving you.”

She nodded in response. “I know.” She did know. Despite all that had happened, he was still the most honest man she knew. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

“You’re hurt. I hurt you. What I did…I know…that’s a wound that’s gonna take some time to heal.”

Diane breathed deeply. She considered for a moment telling him the truth – about microdosing and drinking too much and…and Tully – but stopped short. “Kurt…”

He waited expectantly, sensing there was more. After some moments passed, he encouraged her. “What? What is it?”

Diane shook her head. “Nothing – it’s nothing. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” Imploringly. She needed to escape all this emotion in the comfort of his arms.

Kurt accepted her request, confused and concerned, but trusting that in time she would reveal herself to him.

“Come here,” he invited, drawing her into his arms once more and kissing her forehead. “I’m right here.”

“I love you,” she whispered, placing a kiss on his bare chest as she held him tight.

“I love you, too.”

Sleep soon took hold, a temporary reprieve from the worries both carried.

***

Kurt, indeed, should have cancelled his hotel room that weekend. He and Diane spent the entirety of it together, enjoying each other’s company, despite the emotional weight of Friday night. Diane woke on Saturday refreshed and ready to put the past behind her. Kurt noted this change and felt hopeful once more.

Saturday they opted to head out to Kurt’s cabin. He had some items to tend to, having been away for an extended time. Diane appreciated the escape from the city and the shameful secrets it held. She also appreciated turning off her phone for a couple of days, in part to decompress, and in part to avoid Tully’s continued phone calls. She gave the firm Kurt’s home number and told them to call her there if there were any issues.

The weekend passed far too quickly for both of them. That had always been the case – a few scant days together, then the call of work separating them once more. Though well-versed in parting, there was another layer of grief that shone through in the wake of all that had happened between them these two long years. Neither wanted to leave the other, but they struggled to find a way forward together.

They opted to extend their weekend with dinner together at Kurt’s hotel before Diane kissed him goodbye and headed home. Kurt watched her depart, reminded of the much too many times he witnessed her walking away from him – back to the firm, to a life without him. And always dredging up the memory of that fateful day in court when she walked out on his testimony about Holly, and ultimately, out of his life. The emotions caught in his throat at that moment. He was so tired of all of this, but he couldn’t push her. Still, patient waiting was becoming more and more painful.

Though walking away came easier for Diane, she lamented the pattern of their lives and the resulting indiscretions. She knew now, more than ever, that Kurt’s betrayal was a symptom of a greater sickness between them – an unwillingness to admit that they could not continue to live as they did and have a healthy marriage. He had tried, God knows, to rectify things in his own way, but she had opted to remain blind. Not that it excused his behavior, but having engaged in her own affair, she was far more attuned to the complexities of such things. Whatever the past had held, she knew in the deepest recesses of her heart that Kurt loved her and always had. She knew it was time for them to find a way forward.

***

The next morning marked Kurt’s first day on the Clarkson trial. It was a full day in which the jury was transported offsite to the crime scene. Kurt was already there when Diane arrived, his intensity turned to his work. He did well as always, no doubt helping her case. She told him as much after, making sure to communicate her desire to reward him with a kiss later. They agreed to meet at 11:30 at her place.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

With that promise bestowed, watching her walk away came far easier for Kurt this time around. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events of Season 2, Episode 8: "Day 457"
> 
> Warning: Holly's back. And Tully. Ugh. I tried to keep their presence at a minimum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> It's premiere week! YAY!
> 
> I was hoping to have this updated to present time by this date, but life has gotten in the way. I will continue to write through seasons 2 and 3, and believe that Kurt will be back healthy and whole, offering new McHart material in season 4 for us to enjoy and expand upon in the fanfic-iverse!
> 
> Thanks again to all who make this possible - creators, writers, actors, crew, etc. To my beta, who offers encouragement and inspiration. And to all of you who continue to stick with this version of the story. 
> 
> Thursday's almost here!
> 
> Stay safe and well in these strange times,  
> Hope

Kurt had only ever felt this way when it came to her. The anticipation of seeing her. The butterflies. He’d never seen himself as a man like that, but Diane changed everything. Despite all that had occurred, he still loved her and only her. He hated his poor choices in the past, hated what it did to her…to them. Yes, they had their fair share of problems, but he should have found a way to fix it. He should have tried harder.

So now, he was trying as hard as he could. In anticipation of their 11:30 meeting, he made the rounds to pick up some of her favorite things. Roses. Her perfume. The dark chocolates she loved. And her favorite wine.

He arrived promptly at 11:30 and entered her apartment. He was met with the sounds of her favorite classical music, the smell of her favorite candles burning, and the sight of her curled up on the sofa in front of the fire. He was overcome with nostalgia at such a familiar scene – as if he was coming home on any number of occasions in the past. He missed coming home to her; always wanted to come home to her every night. He would do anything to make that a reality.

“Hello,” she said warmly upon seeing him, rising from her place on the sofa and walking toward him.

Kurt’s jaw dropped at the sight of her, no longer clad in work clothes, but enveloped in a silk negligee that showed off her long legs. He nearly dropped the packages he carried in favor of sweeping her into his arms and off to the bedroom.

“For me?” she said, smiling upon sight of the items he carried.

Kurt cleared his throat, trying to find words. “Ahem…ummm…yes. For you.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling more widely as she helped unload the packages from his hands. “Oh, Kurt, you’re so good to me” she purred, seeing her favorite things. She kissed him lightly on the cheek before finding a vase for the roses and setting the other items on the counter.

Kurt found himself overcome once more at the sight of her, the smell of her, her presence. Without a word, he walked up to her and took her in his arms, kissing her with a passion only she evoked. Diane met his passion in equal measure, responding in kind, her fingers lacing through his thick hair as her tongue danced with his. She broke the kiss only long enough to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

It all came back so easy, making love. It was the language they first spoke to each other, one that brought them back together through the years of one kind of separation or another. It was the language of healing for two people who struggled with voicing their emotions, a bridge by which they could find the path home to one another once more.

With clothes easily shed, they stood naked before one another not just physically, but emotionally, too. They saw the love in one another’s eyes despite all that had transpired; they apologized through kiss and caress for their part in this separation. When they finally joined, both knew this was the end of that chapter of their story. There, once more in each other’s arms, they began a new tale of reconciliation and forgiveness and love that transcended all that conspired to tear them apart.

Enveloped in Kurt’s strong arms, Diane finally whispered the words he had so longed to hear: “It’s time, Kurt. I’m ready.”

He buried his face in her hair, hiding the tears that spilled freely. His arms drew her closer until she could barely breathe, but she allowed it, cherished it, even, this strong, stoic man who had somehow come to love her and never gave up on her, on them. A man who had begged for her forgiveness in countless moments over the course of two years. A man who had waited patiently, knowing how close he had come to losing her because he failed to fight for their marriage before his transgression.

Little more was spoken aloud that evening, save the murmurs and moanings of lovemaking that carried on through the night and into the next morning. After a quick shower, Kurt dressed and sat beside her on the bed. It was a familiar scene, reminiscent of a night spent together in the early part of their separation after she had supported him during his speech to the police. But unlike that moment, when Diane continued to resist his efforts at reconciliation, in this one she kissed him willingly. “Let’s have dinner this week – we can talk about next steps.”

Kurt nodded. “I like the sound of that.”

Diane took his face in her hands, caressing his stubbled cheek. “I love you, Kurt.”

“Mmmm, I love you, too, Diane,” he responded, lost in the deep of her blue eyes.

“I’ll see you later, I guess,” she smiled.

“Look forward to that.”

One last kiss and a squeeze of her thigh and he was off to another day of ballistics analysis and testimony preparation. Just another day professionally, but personally, he felt like his life had just got made.

***

How quickly things can change. A day after leaving her house, Kurt stood across from his wife in the conference room of her office. They had scheduled a meeting to prep him for the stand. The same phone call had resulted in their scheduling dinner at their favorite place in the city for the same day of his testimony. Only now, Holly Westfall had once more arrived on the scene, care of opposing council Solomon Waltzer’s last minute change to his ballistics expert. Not only was Kurt’s integrity as an expert witness being tested, but his trustworthiness as a husband was also being called into question.

He felt the change in Diane upon entering the room. No warm smile. No twinkle of light in her eye. She stood across the table, putting as much distance between them as possible with Adrian as a buffer. She didn’t say much at first, not out loud, but Kurt heard the anger, the hurt, loud and clear. And he felt it too, at Solomon, at Holly, but most of all at himself. Why hadn’t he told her? Why did he continue to make the same mistake with this woman he loved so deeply?

The truth was he had run into Holly, once, completely unplanned. It was during a networking event when she joined his group of colleagues for a drink. It was not by his invitation, that was for sure. But not one to make waves, Kurt stayed for one drink, over the course of which Holly brought up a case to the group, in search of input. Ever the mentor, Kurt automatically offered his insights. It was a short interaction, no more than five minutes in the company of others, and ended with Kurt excusing himself and returning to his hotel room, where he immediately called Diane. It wasn’t their usual night to talk, and she didn’t answer, but he left a message: “Just thinking about you and wanted to call to check in. I love you.”

Perhaps had she answered he would have told her what had happened; perhaps not. They were hanging by such a thin thread for so long, and Kurt was terrified that any misstep would sever that completely. He couldn’t lose her. So he filed the encounter away under meaningless interactions, which it was, and continued to pursue his wife’s forgiveness and love.

Yet now, that brief encounter was back to haunt him. Worse yet, to hurt the only woman that mattered, who once more had to swallow her feelings and hear the news of what was characterized as another indiscretion by the man with whom she had just agreed to reconcile. Kurt felt the same panic welling up inside him. But still he stood his ground, unwilling to compromise his ethics to stoop to the same level as Waltzer by offering dirt on Holly when asked to do so by Adrian. His heart nearly stopped when Diane asked for a minute alone with him.

“I need your help on this. The jury was convinced by her.” Calm, cool, collected. Icy, even.

“I know.”

She, too, pushed him for something, anything. She, who knew him better than that.

“So your loyal…to her?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“No, well then to whom then? Not to _my_ firm, not to _my_ client, not to _me_.”

The ice was melting as Diane’s rage took fire, and try as he might to convince her otherwise, she would not hear him, not let him near.

“Don’t you fucking come any closer to me!...

I will _not_ be that wife…

…you _lied_ , Kurt!

…I am _not_ that woman. I will _not_ do this.”

The words sliced at his very core, his heart beating out of his chest. He continued to fight back. Not about the trial or his testimony. No, this was a fight for them – they were so close – then, with a slam of the door, she was gone.

Kurt stood still and looked at his feet. The tightness in his chest was unbearable, the lump in his throat stealing the breath from him. He felt paralyzed, unable to move. A few minutes later, Adrian returned and implored him once more for something, anything to help with the case.

“I…I’m sorry Adrian, I can’t do this right now.”

“Will you still testify?”

“Yes, of course. Ballistics.”

“Kurt, you may not have the option to stick to that subject.”

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

He didn’t dare seek out Diane before leaving the office. She needed time. And so did he, to be honest. Time to sort through the onslaught of emotions welling up in him. Was he wrong to stand his ground? Shouldn’t he be willing to compromise his ethics for her if it meant saving their marriage?

***

After a night of lost sleep, Kurt called her. It was just after seven in the morning. Maybe cooler heads would prevail. Maybe they could find a way forward.

***

Diane’s night was sleepless, too, for different reasons. A trip to the bar for more drugs, too much wine, and a phone call to Tully led to a night of drunken, high, meaningless sex. Upon waking to Kurt’s phone call, any regrets she had were drowned out by anger. How could he?!

***

The next time Kurt saw Diane, she sat across from him in court as he took the witness stand for the Clarkson case. A familiar setting for the two, now tainted with the poison of Kurt’s affair. For the first time since that fateful day, Kurt thought he would enter court with a sense of buoyancy. They were going to talk – finally – about really getting back together. Earlier in the week they had agreed to meet for dinner that evening at their favorite restaurant in the city – an eight o’clock reservation was made. All that stood between them was the work of the trial, or so he had thought before Holly's return.

And then, it was if he had been transported through time to that horrible day when he had to watch his wife receive the news of his affair. Holly’s testimony kicked off what would become a rehashing of hurts Diane never deserved. Now it was his turn to face the truth, to testify under oath about what he had done to her. It was fitting for two who had both fallen in love and fallen apart in court rooms.

His heart ached to step down from the stand and take her in his arms – to tell her once more how wrong he was, how he should have been honest, but he was so scared. Instead, he sat before her, admitting to the pain he had caused her as he watched it play across her face and in the depths of her beautiful eyes. They held one another’s gaze – he couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to look away, afraid he might never see her again.

When finally excused, Kurt grabbed a bite at a local bar before heading back to the firm to bring evidence to Maia for her case. He shared the elevator with a smarmy man in a black leather jacket whom he immediately disliked. When that same man asked for Diane at the front desk, Kurt’s heart fell. He watched them interact in her office, sensed something more than just business, but was pulled away by Maia and Lucca. He couldn’t help but steal one more glance before leaving, this time finding his wife alone, sitting at her desk, buried in her laptop. She was a pro at losing herself to work to avoid the pain of life. He regretted that he once more sent her down that path.

***

Later that evening, while the others celebrated their settlement in the Clarkson case, Diane sat alone once more in her office, staring at the screen of her iPhone, across which read the name of the man she should be meeting for dinner in less than a half hour. But now, instead of talking reconciliation, they weren’t talking at all.

Her finger hovered above the screen’s CALL BACK button. Every fiber of her being cried out, “CALL HIM!” except the one fiber she needed to join the fray, that fiber of trust that, having been so carefully restored, was now nothing but a filament about to break, just as her heart was again breaking into a million pieces. All she could do was remain in her chair and stare out into the starry night, the endless expanse of sky illustrative of the endless expanse of hopelessness she felt once more.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, McHart fans!
> 
> I'm finally back! My muse escaped me for quite a long while - a combination of pandemic woes and the disappointment I felt with the truncated last season of TGF (I still haven't watched beyond episode 4). 
> 
> We continue here with the end of season 2. This chapter is basically filler for much of what we know. I will flesh things out further in another chapter to follow later this week.
> 
> Appreciate the many kudos and comments along the way - thanks for reading!
> 
> Enjoy!

Kurt found himself iced out of Diane’s life once more. Every morning and every evening he called, but there was no answer. This time, he feared, he had lost her for good.

Much like her, he turned to work for escape. He never wanted for work – a fact for which he was eternally grateful. Without it, his days would much resemble his nights, when all the thoughts he managed to keep at bay entered full force to steal him of any hope he once held. Though he spent most of his life in an empty home, in an empty bed, the loss of the weight of her beside him was unbearable. He spent most nights writing ballistics reports for the extra contracts he opted to take on in light of her absence.

Now, just when he thought his sleepless, work-saturated nights were finally behind him, traded in for the bliss of his wife, once more beside him, her sweet smell and soft body a balm for anything that plagued his worried mind, any semblance of such hope was obliterated by the specter of his past poor choices. That familiar haunt now brought with it a new phantom clad in a leather jacket and stealing away with the woman that once had eyes only for Kurt. The worst of it was that it was Kurt’s own actions that had conjured that which now possessed all that once was his.

Kurt met the man who had captured Diane’s attention and affection while the two shared an elevator. Unaware of their relationship, his intuition zeroed in on Tully’s nature in their brief exchange. This was a man out for himself; a man who used others. The irritation Kurt felt when Tully asked for Diane at the front desk was eclipsed with rage and despair as he watched the flirtations of the smarmy man who now occupied his wife’s office. Kurt thought it was _he_ who would stand before her; try, again, to talk and explain and apologize and…well, anything needed to keep from losing her. Instead, another man was now the object of his wife’s desire.

She was lost to him. Visions of his wife enveloped in the arms of that unctuous man utterly unnerved Kurt, and it took an immense amount of energy to turn his attention to Maia and Lucca, who had solicited his assistance with an outstanding case. After sharing the information needed, Kurt headed directly to the elevator without turning to look back for fear of what he might see. It was over. They were over. She had moved on.

***

Had Kurt turned, he would have seen a disappointed Tully depart while Diane remained, her face a mingle of relief and distaste.

Tully was just one of many mistakes she had made along the way. But he was the one that she feared from which she would never recover. Drunken, drug-laced sex left her empty and longing not for Tully nor any other. Kurt was who she wanted – needed – cried out for upon waking from the nightmares that had resumed in the wake of this latest revelation. They had plagued her that first year of her separation from Kurt but subsided over time and with the rekindling of their relationship. Now she feared sleep and refused to conjure up that tiny green bottle for help disconnecting from everything. No, she needed to face the pain, feel it. And the only relief was the very source of that which ailed her. It was a call she would not – could not – make.

Then, an unexpected visit from her accountant required her to reach out.

 _Divorce. He wants a divorce? But shouldn’t_ I _be the one filing? What happened – why?_

Diane invited Kurt to discuss things over a drink. then threw herself into work. And aikido class. Until she rushed across town, hair still wet from a quick post-class shower. She managed to throw on some makeup, too – just a bit. She wanted to look ok. Good. Not bothered. Calm, cool. She was Diane Lockhart. Nothing could shake her. Nothing…

Until he stood to leave.

“Because you want a real answer.”

She _did_ want a real answer. A clear way forward. But now that he so readily took the lead, she found herself not relieved, but terrified. Their future would be dictated by him. A future that she now knew she wanted. And in handing over control and hiding behind her nonchalant demeanor, she very well may have thrown that away.

***

Kurt saw through all of it. He knew her better than she knew herself. He felt the desire emanate from her as they exchanged small talk. He knew the dispassionate demeanor she used so well to hide the hurt. And he saw the fear flash in her eyes when he stood to leave.

She didn’t want a divorce. If she did, she would have filed.

No. She wanted him. Still. After all he put her through.

He would not lose her again.

A quick call to a friend sealed the deal – he would work at the FBI Chicago Office and settle into domestic bliss with Diane. They would finally _be_ married – together, under the same roof. Always.

***

Diane was grateful for the grounding aikido gave her when the receptionist announced Kurt’s arrival at her office two days later. Not even a tense encounter with a client would stop her from hearing him out.

“…we haven’t tried _being_ married. We’ve tried balancing career and marriage, and we can’t.”

“But that’s just because –,” desperation raged within Diane. _No, please. Don’t – don’t use that as an excuse. We’ll – we’ll figure it out...Don’t leave me. Please._

Kurt waved her off, stepped closer, and made his offer.

“I’m getting a job with the FBI in Chicago. It means not traveling. It means staying here. Now, I’m asking that you sell your apartment, and we look together for a larger place and then we move in permanently together. We stop pretending that we can do this part-time.” Diane’s heart raced. He didn’t want a divorce! He wasn’t leaving! “And…we live together until we die.”

Diane, unable to face the barrage of emotion rising within, responded instead with an unexpected question. “Did you vote for Trump?”

Confusion furrowed Kurt’s brow, but he answered her truthfully. “No.”

One small word unleashed all that she had hidden within for two years. A sob erupted from her as she flung herself into his arms. He loved her. He wanted her. Only her.

Even a vote for Ted Cruz couldn’t snuff out the love that flowed between. Kurt wrapped her in his arms, dipped her and kissed her. They may have been married for years, but _this_ was what it meant to kiss his bride.

The sound of applause interrupted them, and Diane pulled away, her face aglow with love and awash with tears. “Adrian,” she uttered breathlessly. “Liz must be here with him. Umm…give me just a minute.” Rushing to clean herself up, throw on shoes, and join the others, Diane stopped abruptly and turned back to Kurt. “Don’t go. Please.”

He smiled broadly. “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me now. Always.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new installment. A million thanks to the best beta ever and to all who have read, commented, and offered kudos. It means the world.
> 
> I hope to continue with this as I am able. Still so much story to tell!
> 
> Enjoy!

It wasn’t long before Diane returned. Not even work would come between her and Kurt on this night of reconciliation that she had secretly prayed would finally come. She caught sight of him as she came down the hallway, ever at ease, cowboy-clad foot resting on his knee. His head was back and his eyes were closed – she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or deep in thought.

“Hey…,” she said softly.

Kurt opened his eyes and there she saw the evidence of that which occupied his mind in the form of pooled tears.

“Kurt…what is it?” she gushed, rushing to sit next to him on the sofa.

He quickly rubbed the tears from his eyes, breathing deep as Diane laid her hand on his. “I’m okay. Just…um…well, relieved.” He squeezed her hand, communicating that which he couldn’t voice – his fear that she would reject him.

She knew that fear well. Smiling gently, she squeezed back. “Me, too.”

They held their gaze, communicating beyond the words which, while so easy for her, were a challenge for him.

“Come on, let’s go home,” she whispered, gently pulling his arm. He nodded and rose from the sofa with her. “Did you drive?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Cab.”

“Then I’m driving,” she quipped as she gathered up her things, purposefully leaving her laptop and current files on the desk.

As she turned to grab her coat from the closet, Kurt spoke. “Don’t you need your work stuff?”

Donning her wool overcoat, Diane smiled, pushing her hair back from her face with a twinkle in her eye. “The only work I want to do this weekend involves you and our bed.”

Kurt smiled abashedly, his face awash in color. She still had her way with him. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” He reached out his hand, just as he had done so many years ago when he asked her to leave and start a life with him. Unlike that fateful moment, now Diane readily took his hand and they walked to the elevator, together again; together forever. Always.

***

Just thirty minutes later they sat snuggled on the sofa at what was now _their_ home, at least until they found a new place, two tumblers of whiskey spilling condensation onto the glass. Kurt had lit a fire, just as he had done many times throughout their relationship. The evening would end in sex, no doubt, but neither felt rushed toward the bedroom. There were still some other matters to discuss.

Surprisingly, it was Kurt who initiated conversation. “Diane…I…I just…I mean…” he breathed in, frustrated by his inability to say what was on his heart. “I…I need to know that you forgive me.” Not letting her interrupt, he carried on, the words now pouring forth. “What I did…I…well, I’m still working on forgiving myself for it. For not – well, for not talking to you when I should have. Not telling you I was unhappy. Not…not being honest and coming clean and…” he fell silent, wrestling internally to finish his thought.

Diane took in the picture of the man before her, so strong and stoic, so…committed. She breathed in deeply, entangling her fingers with his. “I think maybe we need a clean slate.”

Kurt’s brow furrowed. “But…no. I mean, I don’t want a pass. I hurt you!”

Diane smiled and shook her head gently. “Not a pass, Kurt. For you _or_ for me. We’ve both made mistakes.” She paused for a moment, an image of Tully flashing before her. Should she tell him? What if he was angry? What if he took back his proposal? Fear remanded her to silence on the matter, at least for now. She didn’t want to ruin this precious moment with…with something that meant nothing. All that mattered was this man before her and their shared desire to make their marriage work. Clearing her throat, she continued. “A clean slate doesn’t negate the past. But…well, it ensures that the past won’t rear itself, tainting this process of reconciliation and recommitment. Yes,” her voice grew stronger, taking on speed, “nor does a clean slate negate the years of love and honor and respect we’ve given to one other. Instead, it allows us to focus on _this_ ,” she motioned between them with her hand. “Yes, to live presently and intentionally. To…to commit to talking instead of holding back or shutting down.”

“No more hiding things from each other…” he added.

“Yes…yes. That’s just it!” It dawned on her then. “Kurt, you once told me that people are more than one thing. Do you remember?”

He smiled as he recalled that night in the hotel, snuggled on another sofa together as they discussed challenging news she had received about her father. “Yes, Diane. That’s the night you asked me to marry you.” His eyes twinkled as his smile grew.

Diane rolled her eyes, which held a twinkle of their own. “And I wouldn’t go back and change it for anything,” she asserted. She then took his hands in hers, drawing them close to her breast. “Kurt, we’re…individually and together… _we_ are more than one thing. We’re more than our transgressions, our missteps, our anger, our pain. I mean…the force that brought us together…neither of us could escape it, no matter how hard we tried. I never thought that was possible – just a fairy tale. But you…you made me believe in what I thought was foolishness. Made me feel things and see things and think about things beyond what I came to realize was a very limited scope.” Tears streamed down her face. “Kurt,” she said, voice shaking, “you’re the great love of my life. And I never want to be without you again.”

Kurt, too, was overcome, unable to speak. “Come here,” he finally mustered, pulling her close and laying a kiss on her forehead. Safe in each other’s arms they remained in that space of deep emotion for some time. Eventually, Kurt drew in a breath, pulled back to look at Diane, and spoke, finding the words he knew she needed to hear. “Diane…I meant what I said. Always. Until my last breath…and if there is some sort of beyond, well there, too…I will love you. I will do everything I can to put us first. To show up. To…well, to find the words.” He smiled sheepishly.

She lay her hand on his cheek and caressed him. “You’re doing a fine job of that, in case you were wondering,” she smiled, her face radiant despite the streaked mascara and blotchy cheeks.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. “Clean slate?” he whispered.

She nodded. “Clean slate.”

It was then the delay on sex ended, Kurt taking her into his arms as he always did, kissing her fully. She responded in kind, their tongues finding each other in a dance they knew so well and treasured. After some time, they broke apart to breathe as their gazes caught. The charge between them was palpable, that sexual energy that arose from their deep love. Without a word they rose, hand in hand, and walked to the bedroom. The time had come to seal their reunion and begin their life anew.

***

Clothes were strewn haphazardly around the darkened room, cast off quickly in favor of skin. The couple embraced in their nakedness, kissing deeply, devotedly, bodies responding to one another. Tumbling into bed together, theirs was a union of two persons created for one another. They made love unhurriedly and tenderly, cherishing one another as they explored like two who lay together for the first time. Their hands and mouths explored fully and fervently, each caress an expression of the love they held for one another; each kiss stoking the fire of sexual energy between them.

All else faded away in the midst of the slow but steady rise. Kurt’s hand finally found the swollen place he knew would send her over, followed by his mouth and tongue. Diane lay back and surrendered to him, her body forever his. She felt the pressure build as he watched her, his innate ability to read her on full display. Breathless, she looked upon him and spoke. “Come here.”

He kissed his way up her body until he was atop her, gazing into her eyes.

“Please, Kurt,” she whispered.

He lowered his mouth to hers, one final kiss before he entered her, wet and waiting. Diane cried out as she wrapped her legs and arms around him, drawing every last bit of his hot and hard length into her. Kurt kissed her again as they became one in body and one in soul. The wave continued to rise, pressure mounting in both, and it was Diane who came first. “Kurt!” she cried aloud, the pulse of her orgasm drawing forth his own as he spilled into her with one final pump. When finished, he rolled to his side, taking her with him as she held him inside.

“Diane…I love you…. I love you so much…” he said, breath ragged and body slick with sweat. They kissed again, leisurely, “I love yous” whispered back and forth between them as they rested in one another’s arms. Eventually, Kurt settled onto his back. Diane drew close, resting her head on his chest and breathing deep the smell that was unmistakably Kurt. Soon, the emotions of the day and ardor of their lovemaking lulled the pair to sleep, marriage mended and hearts full of a love beyond words that each vowed never to take for granted again.


End file.
